Harry was standing by the window in the dormitory, staring out of it while chewing on his pipe in thought. The grounds were still and quiet. No breath of wind disturbed the treetops in the Forbidden Forest; the Whomping Willow was motionless and innocent-looking.
Around him, everyone else were asleep, not a care in the world, but Harry couldn't sleep. He had too much to think about. Harry set down his goblet that he'd been holding, and was about to turn back to his bed, when something caught his eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the silvery lawn.
He peered out at the grounds again and, after a minute's searching, spotted it. It was skirting the edge of the forest now... It was a cat... Harry clutched the window ledge in relief as he recognized the bottlebrush tail. It was only Crookshanks...
Or was it only Crookshanks? Harry squinted, pressing his nose flat against the glass. Crookshanks seemed to have come to a halt. Harry was sure he could see something else moving in the shadow of the trees too.
And just then, it emerged, a gigantic, shaggy black dog, moving stealthily across the lawn, Crookshanks trotting at its side.
Harry stared. What did this mean? Without looking away, he kicked Neville's bed, which was just by the window, shaking the boy awake.
"Wuzzat?" he asked groggily as he slowly opened his eyes.
Harry gestured for him to stand up.
"Come here, Neville," he said, not taking his eyes off the dog. "What do you see?"
Neville groaned as he got up, probably tired of Harry's antics. However, he decided to humor him, and walked over to the window, only to gape when he saw what's down there.
"Harry... is that a Grim?"
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But I'm more interested in his companion," Harry said, and Neville squinted, staring down at Crookshanks.
"What's Hermione's cat doing with that dog?" Neville asked. "It's obviously not a Grim, since we can all see it."
"Crookshanks is a very intelligent cat," Harry said, smiling. "The pieces are coming together now, Neville. I can feel it."
"You have a theory?"
"I have many," Harry said as he saw the two walk into the forest. "But let's not dwell on them now. It's late, after all."
"Harry... What are you doing?"
Neville stood behind Harry in the lawns. Harry himself was kneeling in the grass, his nose almost touching the ground.
"Ronald's rat is dead, no?" Harry asked, and Neville nodded.
"Yeah, so?"
"So, why is there rat tracks here, then?" Harry asked, pointing down at the ground. "And before you ask, yes, I'm sure it's Scabbers. See, Scabbers had a peculiar trait. His front paw lacked a finger, and these tracks show that that very finger is missing."
"Harry, come on," Hermione said, looking around nervously. "It's getting late, and we shouldn't be outside after dark..."
"Nonsense, this is very important," Harry said as he stood up and started walking down the sloping lawns, his gaze fixed on the ground. "Scabbers is very, very important."
Harry followed the tracks all the way down to Hagrid's hut, and he knocked softly. Fang's barking was heard, and the door opened to reveal Hagrid, who immediately opened his mouth, no doubt to chastise him for being out after curfew, but Harry beat him to it.
"No time, Hagrid, no time. I'm merely looking for something."
Without another word, he stepped inside Hagrid's hut, his gaze fixed on the floor as he heard Neville and Hermione apologizing to Hagrid for barging in like that.
"Blood," Harry said, pointing to a miniscule stain on the floor, then at the counter. "Blood."
Harry gave a triumphant cry and dove for the empty milk jug on the counter, shoving his hand into it. As he pulled his hand out, he could be seen holding the tail of a struggling, scrawny rat.
"It's Scabbers!" Hermione exclaimed in shock.
Harry grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light. Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Harry's hands as though desperate to free himself.
"You're a smart rat, aren't you?" Harry asked as he chewed on his pipe, switching his grip so that he was holding Scabbers by the tail again. "Listen up. You're gonna stop struggling, or I shall feed you to Crookshanks."
Scabbers seemed to understand, as he reluctantly stopped struggling, instead settling for shivering to himself.
"Thank you, Hagrid, for letting us in. We'll take our leave now."
Without another word, Harry left the stunned Hagrid's cabin.
"I don't get it," Neville said as they walked across the lawns. "What's so special about that rat?"
"Everything, Neville," Harry said calmly. "Hold this," he said, handing the rat to Neville, who stuffed Scabbers into his pocket while Harry reached into his pocket and took out his Invisibility Cloak.
He threw the cloak over Neville and Hermione, and then started walking again. They started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now. The sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged gray, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.
Neville stopped dead. He was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk, squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Neville's hand.
"He's worried about something," Harry whispered, chewing on his pipe thoughtfully and looking around.
"Oh, Neville, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.
"Okay... You stupid rat, stay still!"
They walked forward, but Neville stopped again.
"Harry, I can't hold him. Why is it so important to bring him back? He'll just let everyone know we're here."
The rat was squealing wildly, but Harry ignored it as they set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep themselves hidden under the cloak. The light was fading fast now.
By the time they reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them.
"The rat won't stay still..." Neville hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Neville came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still... OUCH! He bit me!"
"Neville, be quiet!" Hermione whispered urgently.
"Let's just throw the rat in the Lake and be done with it!"
Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Neville's grip.
"What's the matter with him?"
But Harry had just seen, slinking toward them, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness... Crookshanks. Whether he could see them or was following the sound of Scabbers's squeaks, Harry couldn't tell.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"
But the cat was getting nearer...
"Blast!"
The rat managed to slip between Neville's clutching fingers, hit the ground, and scamper away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him.
"Get the rat!" Harry said urgently, throwing off the Invisibility Cloak and rushing after Crookshanks and Scabbers.
"Harry!" Hermione moaned.
She and Neville looked at each other, then followed at a sprint. It was impossible to run full out under the cloak, so they pulled it off and it streamed behind them like a banner as they hurtled after Harry. They could hear his feet thundering along ahead.
Harry and Crookshanks had to skid to a halt as the rat did a U-turn and slipped between Harry's legs, heading back the way it came. There was a loud thud.
"Gotcha!"
Harry and Hermione skidded to a stop right in front of Neville, who was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in his pocket. He had both hands held tight over the quivering lump.
"Good job, Neville," Harry said, patting Neville on the back. "Now let's get back under the cloak..."
But before they could cover themselves again, before they could even catch their breath, they heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws... Something was bounding toward them, quiet as a shadow, an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.
Harry reached for his wand, but too late. The dog had made an enormous leap and the front paws hit him on the chest. He keeled over backward in a whirl of hair. He felt its hot breath, saw inch-long teeth...
But the force of its leap had carried it too far. It rolled off him. Dazed, feeling as though his ribs were broken, Harry tried to stand up. He could hear it growling as it skidded around for a new attack.
Neville was on his feet. As the dog sprang back toward them he pushed Harry aside. The dog's jaws fastened instead around Neville's outstretched arm. Harry lunged forward, he seized a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Neville away as easily as though he were a rag doll...
Then, out of nowhere, something hit Harry so hard across the face he was knocked off his feet again. He heard Hermione shriek with pain and fall too.
Harry groped for his wand, blinking blood out of his eyes.
"Lumos!" he whispered.
The wandlight showed him the trunk of a thick tree. They had chased Scabbers into the shadow of the Whomping Willow and its branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop them going nearer.
And there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, dragging Neville backward into a large gap in the roots... Neville was fighting furiously, but his head and torso were slipping out of sight...
"Neville!" Harry shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped lethally through the air and he was forced backward again.
All they could see now was one of Neville's legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground, but a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot. Neville's leg had broken, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight.
"Harry, we've got to go for help!" Hermione gasped. She was bleeding too, as the Willow had cut her across the shoulder.
"No! We haven't got time," Harry said.
"Harry, we're never going to get through without help-"
Another branch whipped down at them, twigs clenched like knuckles.
"If that dog can get in, we can too," Harry panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but he couldn't get an inch nearer to the tree roots without being in range of the tree's blows.
"Oh, help, help," Hermione whispered frantically, dancing uncertainly on the spot, "Please..."
Crookshanks darted forward. He slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk.
Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione whispered uncertainly. She now grasped Harry's arm painfully hard. "How did he know...?"
"He's friends with that dog," Harry said calmly, walking forward. "I've seen them together. Come on... and please, do keep your wand out."
They covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before they had reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick of his bottlebrush tail. Harry went next. He crawled forward, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel.
Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from Harry's wand. Seconds later, Hermione slithered down beside him.
"Where's Neville?" she whispered in a terrified voice.
"This way, obviously," Harry said, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks.
"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asked breathlessly from behind him.
"I don't know... It's marked on the Marauder's Map, but Fred and George said no one's ever gotten into it... It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade..."
"Marauder's Map?" Hermione asked.
"A map that shows the whole castle, and all the ways out of it," Harry explained, waving her off when he saw her about to open her mouth. "But Professor Lupin confiscated it a couple of weeks ago. We have more important things to worry about."
They moved as fast as they could, bent almost double. Ahead of them, Crookshanks's tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage, and it felt at least as long as the one to Honeydukes... All Harry could think of was Neville and what might have happened to him... He was drawing breath in sharp, painful gasps, running at a crouch...
And then the tunnel began to rise. Moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Ahead Harry could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.
He and Hermione paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. Both raised their wands to see what lay beyond.
It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls, there were stains all over the floor, and every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.
Harry glanced at Hermione, who looked very frightened but nodded.
Harry pulled himself out of the hole, staring around. The room was deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm again. Her wide eyes were traveling around the boarded windows.
"Harry," she whispered, "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack."
Harry nodded and looked around. His eyes fell on a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it and one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.
"Ghosts didn't do that," he said slowly.
At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. Both of them looked up at the ceiling. Hermione's grip on Harry's arm was so tight he was losing feeling in his fingers.
He raised his eyebrows at her. She nodded again and let go.
Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.
They reached the dark landing.
"Nox," they whispered together, and the lights at the end of their wands went out. Only one door was open. As they crept toward it, they heard movement from behind it, a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. They exchanged a last look, a last nod.
Wand held tightly before him, Harry kicked the door wide open.
On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of them. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Neville.
Harry and Hermione dashed across to him.
"Neville, are you okay?" Harry asked as he looked over the broken leg.
"Where's the dog?"
"Not a-"
"-dog, I know," Harry said, smiling. "An Animagus. Sirius Black."
Neville, who'd been staring over Harry's shoulder, looked at him in shock, along with Hermione. Harry turned around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them.
A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black.
"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Neville's wand at them.
"Protego!" Harry yelled, throwing up a shield and deflecting the spell and sending it up into the ceiling, blowing a hole through it. "Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Incarcerous!"
This seemed to take Black by surprise, as Neville's wand went flying out of his hand. The Stunner hit him in the chest, dropping him like a puppet with its strings cut, and he was soon wrapped in thick ropes, binding him tightly.
Harry moved over to Neville, who was panting from the pain. "How is it?"
"The tibia is snapped clean," Neville muttered, getting a strange glance from Harry. "What? I want to be a healer, remember?"
"Oh, right," Harry said, bunching up a handful of Neville's frock coat and holding it out. "Bite down on this, because this is going to hurt. Hermione, make sure Mr. Black doesn't wake up."
They both did as Harry told them. Harry started feeling up along Neville's leg until he felt Neville's bone protruding through his skin. Grabbing it, he gave the leg a quick twist, realigning the bone, making Neville scream in pain, though it was muffled by the cloth in his mouth.
"I really didn't think he would be so overcautious," Harry said, conjuring up a splint and bandages, which wrapped themselves around Neville's leg. "And now, Rennerevate." Harry pointed his wand at Black, whose eyes snapped open. "It's time for us all to have a little chat. I'd like to god through some of my findings and discoveries with you, Mr. Black."
Harry waved his wand again, conjuring up four very comfortable-looking armchairs. He helped Neville into one of the chairs, then Black, then he and an utterly confused Hermione also sat down.
The door was suddenly slammed open, and there, Lupin stood, wand raised and ready.
"Ah, Professor Lupin," Harry said with a smile, conjuring up another chair next to Black. "I see that you found the parchment I left on your desk, further proving my theory. Please, have a seat."
Lupin stared for a moment, then moved into the room, staring at Black. Then Lupin spoke, in a very tense voice, "Where is he, Sirius?"
Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he nodded straight at Neville. Harry glanced back at Neville, who looked bewildered, and a smile appeared on Harry's face as he lit his pipe.
"But then..." Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "...why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless..." Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, "...unless he was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?"
Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.
Lupin did something strange then. He waved his wand, releasing Black from his bindings, and embraced him like a brother.
"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.
Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself out of her chair and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. "You... you-"
"Hermione-"
"-you and him!"
"Hermione, calm down-"
"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you-"
"Hermione, listen to me, please," Lupin shouted. "I can explain-"
"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too... he's a werewolf!"
There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.
"So?" Harry asked. Obviously, this wasn't what Hermione had expected, as she gawked at him. "I figured out that he was a werewolf the first time he was 'sick' during a full moon. Judging a man based on what he is Hermione? Tsk, tsk," he said, shaking his head in disappointment.
"Harry, what-"
"I was, admittedly, stumped by why Professor Lupin would be here, but I have finally figured it out," Harry interrupted, and Lupin couldn't help but smile.
"Hit me, then, Harry," he said, urging Harry to explain.
"Sit down, everyone."
Not surprisingly, everyone did exactly as they were told.
"Hermione, you're wrong. Professor Lupin has not been helping Black into the castle. They are merely old school friends. Black has been after the rat all along, and Professor Lupin had no idea about it. He no doubt knew that Black was here, with us, by watching the Marauder's Map. He knows how to work it because, unlike what we've been told, my father and Black didn't just have Peter with them, but also... Professor Lupin."
Lupin nodded in approval, and gestured for Harry to continue.
"Professor Lupin is a werewolf, and being that close to each other as they were, Black, my father and Peter no doubt figured out what he was. So, they trained themselves to become Animagi, to keep him company in this very place," Harry continued, and smiled when he saw that Lupin was surprised that he'd figured that out as well, while Black, Hermione and Neville just gaped at him.
"They adopted nicknames, and created the Marauder's Map. My father was Prongs," he pointed at Lupin, "Moony," he gestured for Black, "Padfoot, and..." Slowly, Harry turned around and pointed at the quivering bulge in Neville's pocket. "...Wormtail..."
"How did you figure it out?" Lupin asked, smiling again.
"I figured out that Scabbers was an Animagus when I saw Crookshanks' desperate attempts to catch him. Crookshanks is smart enough to play chess, and smart enough to tell if an animal is an Animagus or not, as Kneazels are excellent at detecting deception. I figured out that he was Peter when I got a closer look at him in Hagrid's hut. The biggest piece of Peter Pettigrew that could be found was a finger, the very same finger that has been cut off from Scabbers. Not to mention the scene of his supposed murder. If he really was exploded, then there would have been a lot more blood."
"Harry, why haven't you told us this?" Neville asked, wincing as he tried to stand up.
"I try not to advertise my theories until I have proof," Harry explained with a shrug. "What I want to know is why? I understand that you switched the Secret-Keeper to Peter, but why wouldn't you say anything when you were arrested?"
"I was too busy laughing," Black croaked. "That little sneak had managed to pull one over me, and managed to get me framed in the process. I had two choices: laugh at the hilarity of it all, or go berserk. I chose the former."
"And why didn't you say anything at your trial?"
Black shrugged. "Never got one."
"Hardly seems fair," Harry said. "Whatever happened to 'innocent until proven guilty?'"
"It went on hiatus back then," Black supplied with a hint of a grin on his face.
Lupin's face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me... and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it... so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."
"Snape?" Black asked harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"
"He's here, Sirius," Lupin said heavily. "He's teaching here as well." He looked up at Harry, Neville, and Hermione.
"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons... you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me..."
Black made a derisive noise.
"It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to... hoping he could get us expelled..."
"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin told Harry, Neville, and Hermione. "We were in the same year, you know, and we... er... didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field... Anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be, er, amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it... if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf... but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life... Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was..."
"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," Neville said slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"
"That's right," a cold voice sneered from the wall behind Lupin.
Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin.
Hermione screamed.
"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," Snape said, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you..."
Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he asked, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did... lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."
"You didn't bloody clear it?" Harry asked with an accusing look at Lupin. He wanted Lupin and only Lupin to show up, and now that plan got blown to smithereens. Alright, he'd simply have to improvise…
"Severus-" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.
"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout..."
"Severus, you're making a mistake," Lupin said urgently. "You haven't heard everything... I can explain... Sirius is not here to kill Harry-"
"Two more for Azkaban tonight," Snape said, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this... He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin... a tame werewolf..."
"You fool," Lupin said softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"
BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles. He overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move.
With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.
"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."
Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.
Hermione took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape... it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"
"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, and Longbottom are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."
"But if... if there was a mistake..."
"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"
"Expelliarmus!" Snape's wand went flying out of his hand, and then, three consecutive Stunners hit him in the chest. Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.
"By Merlin, I truly do hate that man," Harry grumbled, shaking his head."
"Y-You attacked a teacher..." Hermione fretted worriedly. "Oh, you're going to be in so much trouble..."
"Rubbish. Once everything is cleared up, I'll probably get an Order of Merlin, I'm sure," Harry said calmly.
Lupin was still struggling against his bonds. Black bent down quickly and untied him. Lupin straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them.
"Thank you, Harry," he said. "Well, I suppose we should find out if he really is Peter or not. Neville, give me Peter, please. Now."
Neville clutched Scabbers and was about to give him to Lupin, when a thought seemed to hit him.
"Wait a minute, there are millions of rats... how could he know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"
"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," Lupin said, turning to Black and frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"
Black put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others.
It was a photograph of Ron Weasley and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.
"How did you get this?" Lupin asked Black, thunderstruck.
"Fudge," Black said. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy's shoulder... I knew him at once... how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts... to where Harry was..."
"My God," Lupin said softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "Of course... So simple... so brilliant... he cut it off himself?"
"Just before he transformed," Black said. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself, and sped down into the sewers with the other rats..."
"Didn't you ever hear, Neville?" Lupin asked. "The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger."
"You mean, the only piece, which well convinced me that he had faked his death," Harry said, taking Scabbers from Neville and holding him out by the tail to Lupin. "I don't know the spell, so you will have to do it."
Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. "Ready, Sirius?" Lupin asked.
Black had already retrieved Snape's wand from the bed. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.
"Together?" he asked quietly.
"I think so," Lupin said, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One, two... THREE!"
A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands. For a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly. The rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then...
It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground. Limbs were sprouting, and a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed, the hair on his back standing up.
He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry and Hermione. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Harry saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.
"Well, hello, Peter," Lupin said pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see."
"S-Sirius... R-Remus..." Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. "My friends... my old friends..."
Black's wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning took, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.
"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there in Neville's pocket..."
"Remus," Pettigrew gasped, and Harry could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, "you don't believe him, do you...? He tried to kill me, Remus..."
"So we've heard," Lupin said more coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'll be so-"
"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew squeaked suddenly, pointing at Black, and Harry saw that he used his middle finger, because his index was missing. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too... You've got to help me, Remus..."
Black's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes.
"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," Lupin said.
"Sorted things out?" Pettigrew squealed, looking wildly about him once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"
"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" Lupin asked, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"
"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"
Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.
"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" he said.
Pettigrew flinched as though Black had brandished a whip at him.
"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" Black said. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"
"Don't know what you mean, Sirius..." Pettigrew muttered, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.
"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," Black said. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter... They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them... I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information... and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter..."
"Don't know... what you're talking about..." Pettigrew said again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Lupin. "You don't believe this... this madness, Remus..."
"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," Lupin said evenly.
"Innocent, but scared!" Pettigrew squealed. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban... the spy, Sirius Black!"
Black's face contorted.
"How dare you," he growled, sounding suddenly like the bear-sized dog he had been. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter... I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us... me and Remus... and James..."
Pettigrew wiped his face again. He was almost panting for breath.
"Me, a spy... must be out of your mind... never... don't know how you can say such a-"
"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. "I thought it was the perfect plan... a bluff... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you... It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."
Pettigrew was muttering distractedly. Harry caught words like "far-fetched" and "lunacy," but he couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew's face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door. He chuckled to himself as he chewed on his pipe. Everything about Pettigrew spoke of his guilt.
"Professor Lupin?" Hermione said timidly. "Can... can I say something?"
"Certainly, Hermione," Lupin said courteously.
"Well... Scabbers... I mean, this... this man... he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for six years. If he's working for V-Voldemort, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"
"There!" Pettigrew said shrilly, pointing at Hermione with his maimed hand. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"
"Because there was nothing to gain," Harry spoke calmly. "Everything I've heard so far suggests that you only do something if you have something to gain from it. You would gain nothing from killing me, now that Voldemort is weakened. But, had you heard anything about him growing stronger, I have no doubt you would've done something."
Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.
"Er... Mr. Black... Sirius?" Hermione said.
Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her.
"If you don't mind me asking, how... how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"
"Thank you!" Pettigrew gasped, nodding frantically at her. "Exactly! Precisely what I-"
But Lupin silenced him with a look. Black was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he were annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.
"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me... but it kept me sane and knowing who I am... helped me keep my powers... so when it all became... too much... I could transform in my cell... become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know..." He swallowed. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions... They could tell that my feelings were less... less human, less complex when I was a dog... but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand... But then I saw Peter in that picture... I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry... perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again..."
Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Black as though hypnotized.
"...ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies... and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors... So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive...
"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it... It wasn't a happy feeling... it was an obsession... but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog... It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused... I was thin, very thin... thin enough to slip through the bars... I swam as a dog back to the mainland... I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since..."
He looked at Harry, who did not look away.
"No!"
Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Sirius' explanation had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.
"Sirius... it's me... it's Peter... your friend... you wouldn't-"
Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.
"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," Black hissed.
"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this... wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"
"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," Lupin said. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.
"Forgive me, Remus," Black said.
"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," Lupin, who was now rolling up his sleeves, said. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"
"Of course," Black said, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"
"Yes, I think so," Lupin said grimly.
"You wouldn't... you won't..." Pettigrew gasped. And he scrambled around to Hermione, and seized the hem of her robes.
"Sweet girl... clever girl... you-you won't let them... Help me..."
Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.
Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry.
"Harry... Harry... you look just like your father... just like him..."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" Black roared. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"
"Harry," Pettigrew whispered, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed... James would have understood, Harry... he would have shown me mercy..."
Both Black and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.
"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," Black, who was shaking too, said. "Do you deny it?"
Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.
"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord... you have no idea... he has weapons you can't imagine... I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me..."
"DON'T LIE!" Black bellowed. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"
"He... he was taking over everywhere!" Pettigrew gasped. "Wh-What was there to be gained by refusing him?"
"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" Black asked with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"
"You don't understand!" Pettigrew whined. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"
"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Black roared. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"
Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.
"You should have realized," Lupin said quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."
Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall.
"Stop," Harry said suddenly. He walked forward, placing himself in front Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said.
Black and Lupin both looked staggered.
"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."
"I know," Harry said, nodding. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors... He can go to Azkaban... but don't kill him."
"Harry!" Pettigrew gasped, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You... thank you... it's more than I deserve... thank you!"
"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because... I think you were right. My dad wouldn't have wanted them to become killers, just for you. You don't deserve it."
No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.
"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," Black said. "But think... think what he did..."
"No matter how much I would love to see him swing from a noose, he can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "I think he owes a good 12 years already."
Pettigrew was still wheezing behind him.
"Very well," Lupin said. "Stand aside, Harry."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"I'm going to tie him up," Lupin said. "That's all, I swear."
Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Lupin's wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.
"But if you transform, Peter," Black growled, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harry?"
Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.
"Right," Lupin said, suddenly businesslike. "Let's go, then."
"What about Professor Snape?" Hermione asked in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure.
"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," Lupin said, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. "You were just a little... overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er, perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safety back in the castle. We can take him like this..."
He muttered, "Mobilicorpus." As though invisible strings were tied to Snape's wrists, neck, and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling. Lupin picked up the Invisibility Cloak and handed it to Harry, who tucked it safely into his pocket.
"And two of us should be chained to this," Black said, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."
"I'll do it," Lupin said.
"And me," Neville said savagely, limping forward.
"No," Harry said, moving to stand in front of Lupin. "Full moon tonight."
Lupin's eyes widened. "The potion!"
"You should probably stay here, while we bring the rat to the castle," Black said. Lupin nodded.
"I can do it," Hermione volunteered.
Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air, and soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Harry's right, right arm to Neville's left. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.
Harry had never been part of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs, Hermione, Pettigrew, and Neville went next, looking like entrants in a six-legged race. Next came Professor Snape, drifting creepily along, his toes hitting each stair as they descended, held up by his own wand, which was being pointed at him by Sirius, and Harry brought up the rear.
Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Hermione, Pettigrew, and Neville had to turn sideways to manage it. Hermione and Neville still had Pettigrew covered with their wands. Harry could see them edging awkwardly along the tunnel in single file. Crookshanks was still in the lead. Harry went right after Black, who was still making Snape drift along ahead of them. He kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling. Harry had the impression Black was making no effort to prevent this.
"You know what this means?" Black asked abruptly to Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"
"You're free," Harry said.
"Yes..." Black said. "But I'm also... I don't know if anyone ever told you... I'm your godfather."
"Yeah, I knew that," Harry said, chewing on his pipe.
"Well... your parents appointed me your guardian," Black said stiffly. "If anything happened to them..."
Harry waited. Did Black mean what he thought he meant?
"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said Black. "But... well... think about it. Once my name's cleared... if you wanted a... a different home..."
Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.
"What, live with you?" he asked, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling.
"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," Black said quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd-"
Black turned right around to look at him. Snape's head was scraping the ceiling but Black didn't seem to care.
"You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"
"Yeah, I mean it!" Harry said.
Black's gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask. For a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at Harry's parents' wedding.
They did not speak again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first. He had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Hermione, Pettigrew, and Neville clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.
Black saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for Harry to pass. At last, all of them were out.
The grounds were very dark now. The only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. Harry's mind was buzzing. He was going to live with Sirius Black, his parents' best friend... He felt dazed... Then, he realized something.
"Well, it'd be more like you coming to live with me," he reasoned. "See, I have my own place already."
"Well done, my boy, well done!" Cornelius Fudge said, vigorously shaking Harry's hand. "I should have known that you would solve this little mystery. An Order of Merlin, Third Class, I believe is in order for this!"
"Thank you, Minister, but I didn't do it for an award," Harry said as he watched the Aurors carefully guarding Peter Pettigrew, who was being escorted off the grounds, while Sirius was merely standing on the lawns, taking long, deep breaths of fresh, free air.
"But, uh, Harry, about the attack upon Severus..."
"The man's judgment was clearly clouded by a childhood grudge, and he would have allowed two innocent men get the Dementor's Kiss simply because of that. I couldn't let that happen," Harry defended simply.
"Yes, yes, true, very true," Fudge agreed, nodding. "Well, no harm done, I suppose, in light of what has transpired. I must be off to the Ministry, I have many things to do, papers to be signed, orders to be given, you know."
"Well, I wouldn't want to hold you up. I'm sure your wife is eager to sit down for dinner. Haven't done that in a while, have you?" Harry asked with a smirk.
Fudge, who had been shaking Harry's hand again, froze as he stared at Harry in surprise. Then, he laughed.
"Oh, very good, Harry, very good! Well, I must be off! Good night, Harry. Mr. Black, if you would, please, come with me..."
"I'd call this a very successful night, wouldn't you say?" Harry asked Neville as they watched Sirius and Fudge heading down the path to Hogsmeade. Neville was leaning heavily on a walking stick that Harry had conjured for him.
"Successful?" Neville asked in disbelief. "Thanks to you, I got my bloody leg broken, and I have a Herbology homework that needs doing!"
SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT! POTTER SOLVED IT IN A MINUTE!
"Rita Skeeter is particularly vicious against the Ministry in this article," Harry said as he sat in the passenger seat of a Ministry-issued car, given to Sirius, along with a large amount of Galleons, by the Minister as compensation for the 12 years he spent in Azkaban.
Sirius was glad to be free and all, but he'd been hoping for something more being done to compensate him, like for action to be taken against Bartemius Crouch, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, formerly Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, who had thrown him into Azkaban without a trial.
"This is your flat?" Sirius asked as they entered 221B Diagon Alley, and he saw just how messy the place was. Harry hummed with a nod and hung Hedwig's cage up in its usual spot by the window, then set his trunk down and took out his violin. Without a word to Sirius, he moved over to his favorite armchair in front of the fireplace, sat down, and started playing.
"This is going to take some getting used to..." he heard Sirius mutter behind him.
