Well, another chapter up before exams...I'm not quite sure when I had the time to type this; there may be a few holes in the space-time continuum at my house, judging from the general state of things. Anyway...as you can tell, the next few chapters will have a lot more from the book, seeing as this really is the main part, so bear with me...

Again, a disclaimer, because I can: Logic, people, logic. It's really not that hard to- dare I say it- think.


Exams were easy, Bellacine couldn't see what Hermione had been stressing about, test-wise. Otherwise, there was of course Buckbeak's appeal (although she didn't know Hagrid as well as Hermione, Harry and Ron did, she felt a sense of responsibility as it was her cousin's fault the hippogriff was going to die) on the last day of exams, the sixth, and an executioner would be coming. She had expected no less of the Ministry.

First was Transfiguration, transforming a teapot into a tortoise (not a turtle, as she discovered when Hermione spent dinner and the entire evening freaking out), not too hard, although there were a few willow-patterned shells and s flame-breathing chihuahua incident that was solely Neville's fault.

Next, they had Care of Magical Creatures, which turned out to be the easiest of all: keep a flobberworms alive for an hour. Bellacine promptly stuck hers in a bucket with a leaf of lettuce, ditched it, and went to talk with her friends. Hermione was watching her flobberworms like Big Brother to make sure it was still alive. Hagrid came to their table and bent over Harry's worm under the pretence of checking it.

"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," said Hagrid quietly. "Bin cooped up too long. But still...we'll know day after tomorrow- one way or the other..."

He wandered away, looking quite as depressed as 'Beaky' was described to be.

She thought Potions was easy (it really was, just a Confusing Concoction) but Harry did horribly, forgetting to add a bezoar at the very end, so she didn't say anything. That night was Astronomy, also easy, although she had to appreciate the brilliance of having exams at midnight when the next day held two more tests- History of Magic and Herbology.

Thursday morning was Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Lupin had arranged a little obstacle course outside in the sun; it was compiled of a small pool with a grindylow, Red Caps, a small patch of marsh that held a hinkypunk, and a trunk containing a boggart. It was all as simple as every other final until she climbed into the trunk. The first time she had faced a boggart at Hogwarts without Lupin in the room; the first time she saw her boggart- it was Lupin, or course.

Somehow her hatred of Lupin made it easier to defeat the boggart- fear, yes, there was fear, but much more too. She supposed it was harder for people who were terrified, and only terrified, of their boggart: Take Ron, for instance, or Neville.

Bellacine climbed out of the trunk a few minutes later; Lupin smiled vaguely at her. Apparently he could not see inside the trunk by some magical means, only know if the student succeeded or failed, which she was grateful for.

"Excellent, Bellacine. Full marks."

She ignored him and waited under a tree for Harry, who did very well; Ron, who was mislead by the hinkypunk; and Hermione, who did perfectly until she burst out of the trunk screaming.

"Hermione! What is it?"

"P-Professor McGonagall," Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. "Sh-she said I'd failed everything!"

After they managed to calm Hermione down, the four of them drifted up towards the castle. Waiting at one door was Cornelius Fudge- the Minister for Magic, whatever he was doing here. As he greeted Harry whilst they hovered uncertainly behind their friend, he explained he was at Hogwarts for Buckbeak's appeal (and presumed execution).

Eventually they were able to get into the castle for lunch; soon it was time for Bellacine, Ron, and Harry to leave for their very last exam, Divination. They went to the trapdoor- or, rather, as close as they could get, because everyone was seated on the spiral staircase reviewing Unfogging the Future and trying to invent a few good, suitably tragic omens of death to predict.

Professor Trelawney was seeing them all separately, probably to decrease the chances of someone else calling her out as a fraud, as the majority opinion was. (Heaven forbid you mentioned that in front of Lavender or Parvati. They had given Hermione a run for her money as a teacher's pet in that class- or they would have, if Hermione had cared.) The line moved very slowly; Ron kept checking his watch, and she knew he was counting down the time until Buckbeak's appeal. An hour later he was called up, and departed with the air of a prisoner headed towards the electric chair, leaving she and Harry alone on the staircase.

"What are you going to say?" Harry asked nervously. Trelawney had forbidden any of them to tell the others what it was like after taking the exam.

Bellacine shrugged. "Lie, I suppose. Say you're going to die soon, or someone else will."

He laughed. "That sounded threatening."

"No- no, I didn't mean someone else would die, I meant for you to predict that-" Bellacine studied Harry's face. "You knew that, didn't you."

Twenty minutes later Ron exited, looking very much relieved to be out of the Divination room. Bellacine ascended the ladder. The exam was just as horribly boring and patience-testing as Divination had been all year. She hadn't ever seen anything in a crystal ball before and doubted she ever would, so she invented a long, pointless story that was actually one of Beedle the Bard's fairy tales mixed up, with an extra few omens of doom, death, and the apocalypse.

She waved at Harry as she headed back to the common room, where Ron and Hermione were waiting. Hermione held a soggy letter in her hands and looked shocked. She held it out to Bellacine.

It was a letter from Hagrid, that much was obvious, but the parchment was so tear-stained and the letters so shaky she could not decipher it. She handed it back to Hermione, who read aloud:

"Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sundown. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it. Hagrid."

Just then Harry walked into the almost-empty common room. Hermione wordlessly handed him Hagrid's note. He read it through quickly and immediately said, "We've got to go. He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"

"Sunset, though," mumbled Ron, who was staring out the window at Hagrid's cabin, the look on his face glazed. "We'd never be allowed...'specially you, Harry..."

"We'll have to stay here, then," Bellacine said. "You can go visit him tomorrow, he'll understand. He just told you himself he doesn't want you coming down."

Harry shook his head resolutely and sank into one of the armchairs. "No, I think we should go...you can stay behind if you like...If only we had the Invisibility Cloak..."

"Where is it?" Hermione asked at once.

Harry told the two girls about his last trip into Hogsmeade- he had before, but not about Snape and the Cloak- and finished, saying, "If Snape catches me near there ever again, I'm in serious trouble."

"That's true," said Hermione, heading over to the portrait of the Fat Lady. "If he sees you...How do you open the witch's hump again?"

"You- you tap it and say 'Dissendium'. But-"

She didn't even stay to hear the completion of Harry's sentence; she ducked out the portrait hole and returned fifteen minutes later with the Cloak stuffed under her arm.

"Hermione, I don't know what's gotten into you lately!" Ron exclaimed. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney-"

Hermione grinned, looking flattered, as they headed down to dinner. Afterwards they hid in an empty room off the entrance hall; only when they were quite sure no one else was there did they slip under Harry's Cloak and sneak through the grounds to Hagrid's cabin. Harry knocked twice.

Hagrid answered after a moment, and scanned the area in front of his hut; Harry hissed, "It's us! We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak, let us in and we can take it off!" Hagrid moved aside to allow them in and quickly shut the door.

He wasn't crying, but he looked completely lost as Harry folded up his Cloak. "Wan' some tea?" Hagrid said hopelessly, shaking a little as he took out the kettle.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?"

"I-I took him outside," said Hagrid, accidentally pouring milk on the table instead of into as jug. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Though he oughta see the trees an'- an' smell fresh air before-" The milk jug slipped from between his huge hands and shattered.

Don't cry over spilt milk, she thought pensively.

"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid murmured, collapsing into a chair. Bellacine lit the fire in the stove.

"...Dumbledore's gonna come down while it- while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Says he wants ter- ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore..."

Bellacine got out five mugs for tea; Hermione, who was rummaging through the cupboard for another mug, straightened with a small sob. "We'll stay with you too, Hagrid-"

"Yeh're ter go straight back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway...If Fudge and Dumbledore catch yeh out wi'out permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble," said Harid with an air of melancholy, and he shook his great shaggy head as if his ears were full of water.

Hermione picked up a milk jug from the counter and went to pour in milk. She glanced inside and let out a shriek- "Ron! I- I don't believe it- it's Scabbers!"

"What are you talking about?"

She upended the milk jug over Hagrid's kitchen table and a scrawny, frantically squealing rat tumbled out onto the rough table. "Scabbers!" Ron exclaimed, sounding as if he wasn't sure if this was real or not. "Scabbers, what are you doing?" He picked up the rat and held him to the light.

Scabbers was thinner than ever, and a good deal of his fur had fallen out, lending him the appearance of an ancient stuffed animal, completely forgotten and discarded. He writhed frenziedly in Ron's hands, as if trying to free himself; what from, she could not guess.

"It's okay!" said Ron. "No cats, Scabbers! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

Perhaps that was it, she thought guiltily, Scabbers had somehow known she was an Animagus, and a cat at that, and was frightened- Maybe this had nothing to do with Crookshanks all along, and only her, but she hadn't even known-

Hagrid suddenly leapt to his feet. "They're comin'." His face was slowly going pale as he stared blankly out his window to the castle steps. Heading down these steps were Professor Dumbledore, Fudge, the executioner Macnair, and another old wizard she did not know, presumably from the Committee. Harry, Hermione, and Ron all tried to remain in Hagrid's hut, but he forced the four of them out the back door, tossing the Invisibility Cloak over their heads.

"Please, let's hurry," whispered Hermione. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it..."

They headed up the lawn towards the castle. The sun had almost set and the cloudy sky was tinged lavender, aquamarine, dark orange.

Ron stopped, forcing the rest of them to all pause with him, under the cover of the Cloak. He was trying to force Scabbers back into his pocket. The rat was acting rabid, trying to bite Ron's hand. "Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," he hissed desperately.

Bellacine heard a door open behind them and deep voices.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.

"Get over it," she snapped, "be grateful you can't see anything, Hermione...it's only a noise, just a noise-"

"Okay," Ron interrupted. "We're moving. Scabbers, stay put-" Ron paused again. "I can't hold him- Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us-"

The rat's squeals were noisy and high-pitched, but not quite raucous enough to cover the sounds drifting up from Hagrid's garden: a mix of indistinct male voices, a sudden pause; warningless, a swish and the thud of an axe finding its target and deciding to spend a bit of time there.


They stood there, blank with shock, for a few moments, until Scabbers, still scrabbling frantically, bit Ron. He yelped in pain and attempted again to shove the rat into his pocket.

"Ron, be quiet!" came an urgent whisper from Hermione. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute-"

"He won't- stay- put—What's the matter with him?"

She saw Harry flinch and look off to the left; there, his yellow eyes gleaming lantern-like, was Crookshanks. Bellacine assumed the cat was following Scabbers's scent or squeaks; she wasn't sure if cats could see through Invisibility Cloaks, as she had never tried it herself.

"Crookshanks!" moaned Hermione. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"

"Scabbers- NO!"

Scabbers gave one last desperate, violent spasm and jerked free of Ron's fingers, fell, and dashed away. Crookshanks immediately leapt after the rat and Ron quickly ducked out from beneath the cloak and followed the two animals. Harry, Hermione, and Bellacine stared at each other, frozen, then Bellacine shrugged and dashed off after Ron.

They could hear but not see Ron thundering after Crookshanks, shouting at the cat. "Get away from him- get away- Scabbers, come here!" Then they heard a loud thud and another, more triumphant shout. "Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat!"

I find that insulting…

Bellacine almost tripped over Ron's foot and caught herself just in time. "Lumos," she whispered. There, lying on the ground before her was the redhead, holding both hands tightly over a wriggling lump in his shirt pocket.

"Ron- come on- back under the cloak-" panted Hermione, directly behind her. She turned and saw Harry too. "Dumbledore- the Minister- they'll be coming back out in a minute-"

And then over Harry's shoulder Bellacine saw an indistinct, large shape running towards them. It bounded into the circle of light cast by her wand, and she saw it to be a large, pale-eyed black dog, like the Grim Trelawney had been prophesizing about, although she had tuned out the fraudulent predictions after the first round.

The dog leapt directly for Harry, who fell down, but it had overshot and so rolled over his shoulders.

Dazedly, Harry wobbled to his feet as the dog whipped about and lunged for Ron, who had also struggled to his feet. It seized his outstretched arm in its shaggy jaws and began to drag him away as Hermione let out a shriek of pain, Bellacine heard a whop, and saw Harry fall, then there was a swooshing noise and something hit her very hard across the face. She fumbled, dropping her wand, and collapsed to her knees, blood dripping from one temple.

Harry whispered "Lumos!" and a new circle of light illuminated a knobbly tree trunk and wildly flailing branches: they had chased Scabbers all the way to the Whomping Willow. In the shadow of the branches was the great black dog, dragging Ron through a gap between the roots. He was fighting back, but the dog was no match for him; he hooked one leg around a protruding root in an effort to stay in place.

A horrible crack shot out and Ron vanished, broken leg dragging behind him- there had been broken legs before….

Bellacine screamed "ILYA!" and did the only sensible thing: she turned into the black cat, not caring who saw her do so, and dived into the Whomping Willow after the dog and Ilya- no, he was Ron-

She looked around. The dog had disappeared through a gap in the roots, she was now beyond that gap; it appeared to be an unlit tunnel. The walls were of loose dirt and several projecting rocks. If she had been in human form she would have needed to bend almost double so as not to scrape the ceiling; as a cat, she had no difficulty.

Hearing footsteps, she glanced behind her and saw another cat: Crookshanks, padding up the tunnel behind her. His yellow eyes caught hers and he hissed. Knowing Harry and Hermione must be following close behind this cat, Bellacine shifted back as Harry turned a bend.

"Where did you go?" said Hermione.

"Just into this…," Bellacine said, "this tunnel…."

They inspected the dirt walls around them; though Bellacine could no longer see through the darkness, Harry had his wand lit- enough to light their way. She let her own wand remain in her pocket, where she had placed it-

No, she hadn't. She'd dropped it outside the Whomping Willow.

So do I go back for my wand or do I stick with Harry and Hermione? Do I go outside and get it so I can fight, or do I stay so I'm with them in case anything happens? There was also the simple question, a strange question of bravado; do I stay so I don't miss anything?

She stayed. It was dark outside, or near to it; no one would notice a thin stick of wood beside a tree most people avoided.

The three of them were now running through the tunnel (running bent almost double was harder than it looked), then the ground began to rise, slope upwards. There was a dim glow ahead of them…Crookshanks trotted up into the light, and they followed.

They entered into a large, dusty room with wallpaper peeling from the walls. Stains covered the floor and dusty, broken furniture lined the walls. The windows were boarded over; in most, the glass had been shattered in the pane.

Hermione looked around, wide-eyed, then whispered, "Harry…I think we're in the Shrieking Shack."

"Come again?" said Bellacine, who was not too far up on her Hogwarts paraphernalia.

"The Shrieking Shack!" said Hermione. "We thought this tunnel led into Hogsmeade on the map….Come on, Bella, Shrieking Shack? Most haunted building in Britain?"

"Ah, right," she said sheepishly, but at the same moment, Harry looked about at the smashed-up furniture.

"Ghosts didn't do that," he said slowly.

"No. They didn't," she countered with more cheer than she felt. "But we're here to get Ron, and that's what we're going to do, ghosts, ghosty-things, and whatever else is in here noninclusive."

Just then there was a long, low creak; they froze until the eerie noise ceased. Bellacine stepped past the other two, recklessly, shrugged, and started down the hallway and upstairs. She could hear their timid footsteps behind her, faintly creaking on mostly dusty stairs that had a wide, shiny swath down the center of them. Fortunately, it was only wiped clean of dust- not the viscous, dark red stain of blood.

She paused on the dark landing to wait for her friends; they simultaneously whispered "Nox" and the circles of wandlight were extinguished. Creeping forwards to the only door that was open, Bellacine gestured to Harry to pause. Noiselessly she slunk to the door and leaned lightly against it. There was the sound of movement, of a low moan, and Crookshanks's purring.

Bellacine stepped aside and nodded to Harry. He exchanged a last thin smile with her and with Hermione before kicking open the door.

Ron leaned on the floor against a magnificent four-poster bed, clutching his broken leg. Crookshanks lay curled on the bed above him, mewling loudly.

"Ron- are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," moaned Ron, clenching his jaw tight. "Harry, it's a trap-"

"What-"

"Ron-"

"He's the dog…he's an Animagus…."

Ron was staring over their shoulders with an expression of absolute terror superimposed above the pain on his face. Harry whirled around, as did she. A man who had been crouching behind the half-open door straightened and shut the door with a snap.

A mass of filthy, tangled black hair hung to his elbows; shadowed eyes shone out of sockets that fit better in a graveyard. He grinned, madly- his chthonic appearance lending him an even more terrifying aura. She knew his face at once, though somehow the Daily Prophet could never quite capture the horror of seeing him: It was Sirius Black.

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing at them a wand that she recognized as Ron's.

Bellacine, feeling strangely detached from the scene, watched as Harry's and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands; she was suddenly glad her own was elsewhere- she'd been Disarmed before and it was one of the worst feelings in the world, to have no wand, no power, but still have to fight.

Her uncle took a step closer and fixed his eyes on Harry. "I knew you'd come," he said hoarsely. She doubted he had even used his voice in a good many months. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful…it will make everything much easier…."

How insane are you? said a faint, almost pitying voice inside her head. How much have you seen? How much have you known? How many people have you killed?

And then Harry took a determined step forwards; she caught the murderous look on his face and could almost understand how he felt at the moment- how simple, how easy it would be to kill- how wonderful-

"No, Harry!" gasped Hermione and their hands held him back. Ron, too, was standing, holding Harry back; she tried to force him to sit down and hold Harry back herself, but he shrugged her off.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" bellowed Ron, his face slowly turning a pale, sickly green.

Something- she was not quite sure what emotion- flickered like a dying ember in Black's eyes. "Lie down," he ordered, his voice less harsh. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me? You'll have to kill all four of us-"

"There'll only be one murder here tonight," the murderer replied, his grin spreading and growing infinitesimally more insane.

"Over my dead body," interjected Bellacine, "and I mean that literally. Count the wands you hold- three. Where's mine?" It was a risky bluff, but it just- might- work-

"Only one murder," repeated Black.

"What's that?" spat Harry. He tried to wrench himself free of their grasp. Their hands tightened accordingly in response. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew…what's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

The standard response to a question like Harry's own about the Muggles at Durmstrang would have been, "And Muggles matter since when?"

"Harry, shut up!" snarled Bellacine. "You're going to get yourself-"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and broke free of their grip, lunging at Black. He seemed to have a few crazy moments too, because suddenly he was swinging wildly at Black, hitting as hard as he could, knocking him back into the wall-

Hermione screamed and Ron shouted in pain as one of them stumbled over his leg; he heaved himself onto the bed. A multicolored jet of sparks shot from the three wands in Black's hand; his other hand reached out and wrapped around Harry's throat-

"No," he hissed, "I've waited too long-"

Bellacine heard Harry's choked gasp, then, of nowhere, a foot swung past her and kicked Black, who staggered and let go of Harry. She joined the fray and leapt at Black's wand hand; the three wands fell to the floor with a noisy clatter. Harry rolled towards his, then let out an angry yelp as Crookshanks sunk his claws into his arm.

"Get out of the way!" he shouted at the two girls.

Hermione quickly scrambled to pick them up, and retreated to the four-poster bed, her lip bleeding. Bellacine also fell back, trying to appear ready to fight again.

Black lay sprawled at the bottom of the wall. For half a second he appeared dead, then his thin chest began to rapidly rise and fall. Harry held his wand straight at Black's heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?"

"You killed my parents," he retorted, shaking.

And suddenly something in the deep recesses of her mind awoke; returned.

"I don't deny it," her uncle said, very quietly, "but if you knew the whole story."

"I still find it hard to believe…."

"The whole story?" Harry spat in reply. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"Believe what?"

"You've got to listen to me," said Black, more than a quarter note of urgency in his weak voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't….You don't understand…."

"You know, about him. It never seemed likely that he had been serving the Dark Lord all along…I just never expected it of him..."

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry; Bellacine heard the quiver in his voice grow shakier. "You never heard her, did you? My mum…trying to stop Voldemort killing me…and you did that…you did it…."

Before anything else could happen, Crookshanks bounded down from the four-poster bed, across the floor, and settled himself on Black's chest, directly above his heart.

"Get off," Black muttered. "Go on, get."

"But my dear, they've got the wrong man….Simon Peter denied Christ, and Peter…Peter…"

"He was the one?"

Bellacine snapped back to attention, trying to soak in what was before her as well as what had lain dormant in her mind, so many years, to process this strange new revelation that she hardly understood. Then the dam burst, she was hit with a lightening bolt of sudden power- standing- she looked into his eyes, she saw the truth, shining close to the surface- how simple, yet how very impossible- and she still knew not who was culpable, but only that Sirius Black was innocent, and now going to die for nothing, and that was not permissible-

She took one small step for a human, one giant leap for humankind, and stepped forward in front of her uncle, facing down Harry.

He was so going to kill her for this.

"What are you doing, Bella?" She heard a flavor of the same hatred- so shocking in his voice- as when he spoke to Sirius Black.

Bellacine gestured behind her, wishing the Avada Kedavra would be quick- she knew it would, it always was, but how slowly could it travel when it was traveling to meet her- "That's Tom Robinson. I'm defending him."

"Whoever you are," croaked Black, "please just move, get out of the way—"

And then they could hear footsteps echoing downstairs, sudden silence- Hermione screamed, "WE'RE UP HERE- SIRIUS BLACK- QUICK!" Harry's grasp tightened on his wand, almost convulsively, and she prayed- make it quick, please, make it quick-

Lupin burst into the room, his own wand at the ready, and another, hers, in his other hand. He took a slow, hurried look around the room- Ron, lying on the bed, clutching his injured leg- Hermione, cowering beside the door- Harry, holding a wand on Bellacine and on Sirius Black-

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Lupin.

Harry's wand flew from his hand; from the corner of her eye, she saw the two wands Hermione clutched leap from her grasp as well. Lupin caught the three wands deftly, and then he tossed her own wand across the gap to her.

What the-

"Where is he, Sirius?" Lupin spoke in a very tense voice; she had no clue what the werewolf was talking about.

For a few seconds Black remained perfectly still. Then he raised a shrunken hand and pointed it directly at the four-poster bed- at Ron. Ron shrugged, mystified, when Harry turned and caught his gaze.

"But then…," muttered Lupin, intently staring at Black, "why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless-?" Why hasn't who shown what before when? What? thought Bellacine. "-unless he was the one…unless you switched…without telling me…?"

Very slowly, Black nodded.

"Professor," Harry interjected loudly, "what's going on?"

"I think we've been wrong all along," breathed Bellacine as Harry's voice died in his throat. "I think we've got the wrong-"

Her voice died too, as Lupin walked past her to Black, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet, allowing Crookshanks to fall to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother.

He had a brother.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing wild-eyed at Lupin, who had released Black. "You- you-"

"Hermione!"

"-you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down!"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you!"

"Whose side are you on anyway? Both of you!" shouted Bellacine. "You- so it wasn't you, I don't know what the real version of things is, but you're not the traitor, okay—And you! You! You've wanted Harry dead all along, not him! I should have told as soon as I knew-"

"Hermione! Bellacine, listen to me, please!" Lupin shouted. "I can explain if you will just listen to me!"

"I trusted you!" Harry roared at Lupin. Under cover of the great deal of shouting that was taking place, she relieved her wand of its vacation inside her pocket and trained it straight on Lupin. "And all this time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now- let me explain-"

"NO!" screamed Hermione. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too-"

"WEREWOLF!" screamed Bellacine. "HALF-BREED!"

A ringing silence, all eyes on her.

"What?" she snapped defensively. "It's true, ask him- if you trust him, I certainly don't-"

Everyone's gaze switched to Lupin, who looked pale, though he spoke quite calmly. "Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione. Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead…although you, Bellacine, are right- if I say this, will you trust me enough to believe it is true…?" An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron tried to struggle up, but fell back with another gasp of pain. Lupin moved forward, looking concerned- Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

Bellacine moved protectively in front of Ron. "One more step, half-breed…," she warned.

Lupin stopped dead with an obvious concerted effort; he turned first to Hermione and then to herself. "How long have you known?"

"Ages," they both said.

"Since the first Quidditch game," Bellacine said. "It just…added up…then." She remembered how Ilya's leg had too broken—Merlin, she was afraid-

"Since I did Professor Snape's essay," Hermione whispered.

"He'll be delighted. He assigned that essay hoping somebody would realize what my symptoms meant….Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart turned into the full moon when it saw me?"

"Both," she whispered.

Lupin forced a stiff laugh. "You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione- and you, Bellacine-"

"I'm not," said Bellacine. "Too much has happened because I was dammed stupid. I could have told the whole school what you are- it could have been so easy, one whispered word and by dinner you'd be leaving…."

"But they already know," he said. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" gasped Ron. "Is he mad?"

"Yes, of course," quipped Bellacine.

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled suddenly. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" Black abruptly crossed the room and sank down onto the bed, his face buried in thin, shaking hands. Ron edged away.

"I have not been helping Sirius. If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look-" He took out Harry's, Hermione's, and Ron's wands and instantaneously she knew what he was about to do, whatever he had said-

"Cru-" Bellacine started to shout, but Hermione lunged at her wand hand and knocked it aside.

"No," she panted. "Give him a chance. Give him a chance."

Lupin tossed the wands that were not his back to their respective owners. You'll regret this thought Bellacine, but she returned her own wand to her pocket, slowly.

"There," said Lupin, sticking his own wand into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

"If you haven't been helping him," said Harry with a furious gesture towards her uncle and no regard for the implied idea of shutting up for a bit, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map. The Marauder's Map. I was in my office, examining it-"

"You can work it?" she voiced suspiciously.

"Of course I know how to work it. I helped write it. I'm Moony- that was my friends' nickname for me at school.

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you four might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?

"You might have been wearing you father's old cloak, Harry-"

"How d'you know about the Cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappear under it….The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid and set off back towards the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else-"

"What?" exclaimed Ron. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," he continued, now pacing the dusty floor and paying no attention to Ron's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" Harry repeated.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast towards you, labeled Sirius Black….I saw him collide with you, I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow-"

"One of us!" Ron corrected.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you. Do you think I could have a look at that rat?"

"What? What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Can I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a shaky hand inside his pocket and extracted the rat he had been trying to contain all evening. Scabbers emerged, backpedaling furiously in midair; Crookshanks hissed at the sight of the pet.

Lupin stepped closer to Ron, gazing intently at Scabbers.

"What?" he repeated. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black- suddenly Bellacine remembered that he was an Animagus, just as she was- and if one could be, then surely- but surely not-

"What d'you mean- of course he's a rat-"

Or was he?

"No, he's not," whispered Lupin. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus- no," said Bellacine, because of course this was fully and completely impossible, "he couldn't be—"

"He is," said Black with an air of dark finality. "An Animagus, by the name of Peter Pettigrew."