(Gilderoy Lockhart)
By the time we reached the spiral corridor leading to Dumbledore's office, Sirius had stopped rattling his chains quite so loudly. Whether that was resignation, exhaustion, or the slow realization that I wasn't about to hand him over to dementors just yet, I couldn't say. Probably a mix of all three.
The stone gargoyle guarding the entrance eyed us both with thinly veiled judgment.
I stopped in front of it and tapped my staff lightly against the floor. "Right then," I said pleasantly. "What was the password this week again?"
The gargoyle's stone lips moved. "You have permission to enter, Professor Lockhart. You do not require the password."
I blinked. "Oh. But that's no fun."
Sirius stared at me as if I'd just announced I intended to juggle hippogriffs. "You don't need the password," he repeated slowly. "And you're still asking?"
"Of course," I said. "Tradition matters."
I tilted my head thoughtfully. "Let me guess. Acid Pops."
"Incorrect," the gargoyle replied flatly.
"Not that one?" I clapped my hands once. "All right, stop me when I get it right."
I cleared my throat and began listing sweets with theatrical confidence.
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Cockroach Clusters. Sugar Quills. Fizzing Whizzbees. Sherbet Lemon. Caramel Cobwebs. Doxy Floss…"
Sirius watched in silence for several seconds, then shook his head and sighed. "Merlin help me."
I kept going. "Ice Mice. Ice Pops. Jelly Slugs. Jelly Skulls. Jelly Snakes. Gummy Bears. Gummy Worms…"
"Golden Snitch Truffles," Sirius added suddenly.
I gave him a thumbs-up. "Good one."
Encouraged, he continued, "Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Explosive Fairy Dust. Exploding Bonbons. Hocus Pocus Pops. Honeydukes Finest."
"Excellent teamwork," I said approvingly, continuing seamlessly. "Pumpkin Pasties. Treacle Fudge. Chocolate Frogs, though those are a classic, really."
The gargoyle let out a long, deeply put-upon sigh.
"It is Tongue Toffee," it said. "Now please stop."
The stone shifted aside, revealing the moving staircase as it activated with a soft grinding sound.
Sirius frowned. "Never heard of that one."
I smiled proudly as we stepped onto the stairs. "It's new. Created by my protégés, Fred and George Weasley. Currently exclusive to Hogwarts. Causes temporary tongue elongation, mild drooling, and excellent comedic timing."
"…Of course it does," Sirius muttered.
The stairs carried us upward, spiraling smoothly into Dumbledore's office. The door opened to reveal a familiar, comforting chaos: shelves packed with strange instruments humming and clicking softly, silver devices spinning lazily, and portraits of former Headmasters pretending very hard not to listen.
Dumbledore himself was conspicuously absent.
On his perch, Fawkes the phoenix was preening his feathers, glowing faintly in the dim light.
"Hello, Fawkes," I greeted warmly.
The phoenix trilled in response, wings fluttering once.
Sirius hesitated, then said quietly, "Hello… long time no see."
Fawkes paused mid-preen and fixed Sirius with a long, assessing stare. The kind that felt uncomfortably judgmental coming from a bird made of fire.
Then, after a moment, he chirped softly.
"Well," I said, amused, "it seems he approves of you."
Sirius smiled faintly. "Nice to know he doesn't hold a grudge from that time James and I turned his feathers pink."
Fawkes narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, he remembers," I assured him. "He absolutely remembers."
With Dumbledore still at the feast, I clapped my hands together. "Right. Since we have a few minutes, how about a little Lockhart-style grooming? We can't have you smelling like a mountain troll."
Sirius wrinkled his nose. "What, this?" He sniffed himself once and shrugged. "Been like this so long I'm immune. But sure. Just… don't go overboard."
"No promises."
I flicked my wrist, and my wand shot neatly out of its holster into my hand. "I'll need this. Delicate work, you see."
I twirled the wand, and spells flowed one after another.
A full-body cleaning charm washed over him, stripping away layers of grime and prison filth. Dust and dirt evaporated into nothingness. His hair untangled itself, skin regaining color, posture straightening slightly as if he'd remembered what it felt like to be human.
A faint scent of lavender filled the air.
Sirius blinked. "I smell… clean."
"Miracles happen," I said.
I then produced a bottle of my personal shampoo.
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you carry that everywhere?"
"Of course," I replied seriously. "You never know when an emergency like this might present itself."
By the time I was finished, Sirius Black no longer looked like a half-feral fugitive dragged from Azkaban. He looked thin, tired, haunted, yes, but unmistakably human.
I stepped back, appraising him critically. "All right. Now we just need to do something about these rags."
I snapped my fingers. "Dobby."
With a pop, the house-elf appeared, eyes wide and ears flapping. "Yes, Master Lockhart, sir?"
"Bring me a full set of lordly clothes," I said. "Black."
"Right away, sir!"
Another pop, and the clothes appeared instantly, folded neatly.
"Thank you, Dobby. You may go."
With a flick of my wand, the prison rags vanished, replaced seamlessly by tailored black robes that fit Sirius as if made for him.
The discarded rags fell to the floor, and I proceeded to incinerate them with Fiendfyre.
Sirius jumped back hastily. "Bloody hell!"
"Oh, don't be so dramatic," I said lightly. "You'd think you'd never seen Fiendfyre before."
"That spell is notorious for killing even the caster," he said flatly.
"Oh right," I said thoughtfully. "I do forget normal wizards can't control it properly."
I reshaped the flames into a small puppy, which wagged its fiery tail. I gave it a gentle pat before dismissing it entirely.
Sirius stared at me.
"…And I thought I was the mad one, you'd fit right into my family," he muttered.
I smiled.
Halloween was turning out to be quite productive already.
…