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The Flight of Bert and Ernie


Remus woke up suddenly from a dream. He couldn’t remember all of it, echoing through his head was only the vague image of Sirius Black, calling him a monster… He closed his eyes and shook his head and ran a hand over his jumper… and realized the Charkorais birds weren’t there on his chest like they had been when he’d fallen asleep. “Bert? Ernie?” he sat up, looking around, still groggy and spinny-headed from the dream. “Where are you at Bert?” Bert was the one that never, ever stopped peeping - this was probably the quietest he’d been ever in his whole little bird life.

Remus very carefully felt around the mattress.

The birds were entirely invisible by now, being almost a month old. Every now and then, Ernie would flicker into view a little tiny bit - more a shimmer or a reflection of light than really visible - but Bert was entirely invisible and Remus was afraid he might smush one of them if he moved too quickly…

Suddenly something bumped into his head.

He looked up and felt about in the air and felt little tiny claws close ‘round his wrist. He could see the indentations, but not the feet that made them. “Bert? Ernie?” A second set of claws clutched onto his forearm. “Bloody hell, you lot scared me!” he said, frowning. He carefully put his other arm ‘round the back of them, pulling them into his sweater. “Wait a second,” he realizd suddenly, “You lot can fly now? Since when?! Hey!” He felt immensely proud and he got up, carefully keeping hold on the birds, and tucked them into the cage that Newt had built so they were easily found. He hurried out into the laboratory.

“Mr. Scamander! Mr. Scamander!” Remus scurried up to the desk where Newt Scamander was leaning over a load of sketches with a big funny monocle on one eye so that when he looked up at Remus, he looked as though one eyeball was four times larger than the other. “Bert and Ernie can fly!”

Newt Scamander looked impressed, “Already? Brilliant!”

“Yeah!” Remus was quite excited - possibly the most excited he’d been since his spat with Sirius. His face glowed.

“Excellent,” Newt nodded, pleased, “This will be perfect timing for a trip to Cairo - we can leave tomorrow --”

“To Cairo?” Remus asked, “What’s in Cairo?”

Newt answered, smiling, “Well the reserve where the Charkorais are from, of course. The egg was stolen from a friend of mine there and he’s got a brilliant set up for the birds - brilliant. I told him we would see to it that the birds were healthy so that they wouldn’t have a problem mixing with his other specimens, and since they’re flying ---”

“We’re - we’re getting rid of them?” Remus looked crestfallen.

Newt shook his head, “Not getting rid of, no! We’re bringing them where they belong, my boy, there’s a vast difference.”

Remus ran a hand over the loose thread on his jumper that they liked tugging on and cast his eyes downward. “Yeah.”

“Surely you knew this day would come that we would have to free the Charkorais birds?”

Remus paused, “I thought… I thought you were gonna keep them… that I could visit them.”

Newt Scamander lay a palm over Remus’s shoulder, “You’ve done marvelously taking care of them, but all fantastic beasts have a place and they belong where they belong and we must respect that and be kind to them and let them go.”

“What about the Niffler?” Remus pointed out. “She lives with you.”

“Ah my poor Niffler,” Newt said, glancing over where the Niffler’s little toes were only just barely showing over the edge of the basket she was curled up in, “She’s been with me so long that I very much doubt whether she would know what to do if I ever freed her. She stowed away, you know.”

“Stowed away?”

“Long story,” Newt said, then he turned and ducked away, headed for the ladder. “I must tell Tina about Cairo…”

Remus frowned and watched as Newt excitedly cracked open the briefcase, calling for his wife’s attention. Quietly, Rey snuck away, pausing to look at the Niffler, whose breath made a small whistling sound in his nose as he slept. He hurried into the observation room and closed the door before reaching into the cage to withdraw the Charkorais chicks, relishing the feeling of their little feet as they ran up his arms and nuzzled happily into the neck of his jumper.




James was impressed. The motorbike did not crash or explode or anything. Sirius actually managed to fly the stupid thing clear across the country and land it with expert ease in front of the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade.

His legs felt like gelatin as he rolled himself off the back of the bike. He could still feel the vibration of it in his muscle memory. “Bloody hell,” he murmured, catching himself before he toppled over.

“Wicked, right?” Sirius asked and he slid his wand into his boot again, taking off the helmet and shaking loose his long, thick hair. “Ugh. I’m going to be a mess when I see Moony,” he muttered.

“Your hair’s what you’re worried about when you’ve got that dirt all over your face?” James asked, smirking.

Sirius was running his hands through his hair, trying to neaten it up a bit. “That was ‘cos we needed to be stealth.” He paused, then aimed his wand at his face, “Scourgify facium,” he announced and the dirt was sucked off his face and into the end of his wand. “There.” He turned to look up at the Hog’s Head sign and drew the key from the ignition, dropping it into his pocket. “Well,” he said, “Here we are.” He slid off the seat of the motorbike, tripping the same as James had done.

James nodded, “Here we are.”

Sirius looked up at the window that he knew was Dumbledore’s and he waved for James to follow, “C’mon.” He walked forward, swallowing back the nervousness in his stomach and drew himself up to his best height. James followed along after him as he pushed open the doors of the pub and looked about.

The dusty tables were sparsely filled, witches and wizards sitting about, talking, drinking from glasses. Sirius saw the bartender looking toward him and James in the doorway with a raised eyebrow. It was very early in the morning - they’d travelled through the night to Hogsmeade. Hagrid looked up from a plate of mostly-burned toast and an ale and his eyebrows went up in excitement. “It’s not Sirius Black and James Potter?” he said in surprise.

“It is,” James said, smiling at Hagrid, happy to see him.

“But what are yeh doin’ here?” Hagrid asked.

“Just… stuff,” James replied. Sirius had already walked meaningfully across the room toward the stairs and James thumbed after him, “Gotta go. Bye Hagrid. See you next month, hopefully!”

Hagrid waved, watching after Sirius and James as they left.

James trotted after Sirius up the stairs as Sirius ran up them, reaching up to draw his wand from his hair and he banged his fist on the door.

“DUMBLEDORE!” Sirius shouted.

James flinched. “Mate, maybe you ought to at least start respectful-like…”

Sirius turned to say something, but was interrupted when the door opened. He turned and there was Dumbledore standing before them in his grey robes and long beard, his halfmoon glasses low on his nose. He should have looked surprised to see them, James realized, but Dumbledore looked very not surprised. Quite the opposite, he looked as though he’d just been expecting them. Sirius didn’t notice this - or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care. He pushed his way through the door, brandishing his wand in such a grandly dramatic fashion that James was forcibly reminded of the knights of the round table in Monty Python’s Holy Grail.

“Where’s my Moony, Dumbledore?” Sirius demanded, his wand aimed.

James’s face burned as he timidly stepped into the room behind his friend. “You’ll need to excuse him, sir,” James glanced over at Sirius, then back to Dumbledore, “You see, he’s bleeding stupid so he can’t help being a git.”

Albus Dumbledore’s lips twitched.

Dumbledore and Sirius stared at one another - Sirius’s wand hand quivering with nerves as he kept it aimed at Dumbledore, who stared down his nose at the tip of the wand.

And that’s when Dumbledore started laughing.

James, bewildered, looked from Dumbledore to Sirius, who lowered his wand slowly, as Dumbledore patted down his beard and shook his head, tears of mirth in his eyes. “Oh Sirius, dear passionate Sirius…” he clapped his palm over Sirius’s shoulder.

Sirius shook his palm off. “Are you going to tell me where Remus is, or do I have to hex you, you bloody old fool?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Dumbledore answered, “I’ll take you to him myself.”

Sirius blinked, “You - you will?”

Dumbledore smiled and pulled Sirius into the room. “Ah, Mr. Black, I recognize too well the fire in your eyes. I once carried that same passion… Come in. Come in, the both of you.” Quickly, Dumbledore ushered the pair of them over the threshold of the room and, peering both ways down the hall, he pulled the door closed behind them.