Chapter 62: Into the Shrieking Shack

I came back to consciousness seconds later and scrambled up, clutching at my head when it began to pound. Ron was being dragged down through a gap in the roots of the tree and Harry was struggling to get nearer to him while the tree continued to push him away. I wanted to do something, anything, but as long as the tree was fighting us, Ron was out of our reach.

I told Harry we needed help, ignoring the bleeding that was coming from my shoulder, but Harry insisted that there was no time. I was terrified for Ron. The dog's teeth had looked sharp and had already pierced through Ron's skin like it was butter.

Another branch came at me, and I managed to dodge it, but I realized my headache was getting worse. I caught sight of Crookshanks standing a short distance away and called out to him pleadingly. I knew it was silly to ask a cat for help, but I was running out of options and every second Ron was getting further away. Tears streamed down my cheeks as my mind began to run through the possible scenarios of what could happen to Ron if we didn't get to him in time.

Crookshanks started walking towards me and I sighed in exasperation, both at my cat and myself for expecting more from him, but then Crookshanks passed me altogether and went straight for the tree trunk. When he got to the tree, he put his paw on a small knot in the trunk and the branches all froze in place, as though it were a regular tree.

I took a moment, just a moment, to marvel at Crookshanks' ingenuity. I wondered how he'd known to do that, and how he'd even found us all the way out here when he usually slept in my dorm all day. But Ron was still in grave danger, so I had to focus. I got out my wand at Harry's suggestion and together we approached the gap in the tree trunk.

When we got to it, Crookshanks entered first and I felt sick. Harry said that Crookshanks was friends with the dog that had attacked Ron and though I didn't want to believe it, his actions just now had been oddly suspicious and specific. Ron had been warning me about Crookshanks all year. If it turned out that Ron had been right about Crookshanks, and that all of this could have been avoided if I'd just trusted him, I wasn't sure that I'd be able to live with myself.

Inside the tree was a narrow tunnel made of dirt that seemed to stretch indefinitely. Even with Harry's and my wand light, I couldn't see the end. My stomach tightened as we began to walk. Harry explained that the passage was one of the ones he'd seen on the Marauder's Map, but that nobody ever used it. I decided it must be because there was something terrifying at the end and I anxiously tried to quell my imagination as it came up with dozens of ideas of what could be waiting on the other end.

As we progressed through the tunnel in silence, I both wished for it to end and wished that it never would. I wanted to get to Ron as quickly as possible because whatever was happening to him was sure to be bad, but I was terrified of what I might see when we got there. I could only hope that Ron would still be alive. The alternative was simply unthinkable. The dog had looked like it was capable of killing Ron if it wanted to, but maybe it had other plans. Not that they could be much better.

Suddenly, the tunnel twisted and Harry and I crawled through a small opening in what could be considered the roof of the tunnel. It was a trapdoor in the floor of a building, I realized when I emerged. The room we found ourselves in was dirty and dusty, the furniture was all broken and the windows were boarded up. It was clear the house was abandoned and I remembered every ghost story I had ever heard as a child. Abandoned houses were never good signs.

I wondered where we could be, geographically speaking. We had been in the tunnel a while, but not so long that we could have gotten very far, and we had been travelling south. I guessed that we were close to Hogsmeade. But the only abandoned house in Hogsmeade was... I gulped when I realized where we were.

There was a noise from overhead and I jumped, grabbing Harry's arm. He looked at me and inclined his head toward the stairs, asking if we should go up. I nodded and let go of his arm, biting my lip instead as I followed and tried to make as little noise as possible.

When we arrived at the top of the stairs, we extinguished our wand light and crept towards the only open door on the landing. It was only open a crack, so we couldn't see anything happening on the other side. There was movement on the other side and then I heard a moan that could only have been Ron. My throat constricted as I thought of what state he might be in and then I realized that if he was moaning, at least he was alive. That was a good sign, right?

Harry looked at me once more and I nodded that I was ready, taking a deep breath and steeling myself for whatever sight I was about to behold. Harry stood a little straighter, held his wand out in front of him and kicked the door open with a bang.

Standing behind Harry, I couldn't see much in the room. I heard Harry take a sharp breath and then he was running over to Ron and I was right behind him.

He was lying on the ground, clutching at his leg, which I could tell immediately was broken. There was blood everywhere, and I did a quick scan of the rest of his body, breathing a sigh of relief when I didn't see any other injuries. A broken leg was something Madam Pomfrey could fix easily, though I was sure Ron was in a significant amount of pain right now.

I didn't want to hurt Ron, so I didn't touch him, but I wanted to offer some sort of comfort, so I knelt next to him and asked him if he was alright.

Harry was less preoccupied with Ron's current state, and more worried about the dog, who was nowhere to be seen. With fear in his eyes, Ron shook his head, insisting that it wasn't a dog at all, that this was all a trap.

I stayed put as he pointed and Harry spun around, letting out a horrified gasp. I craned my neck around too, refusing to move away from Ron and my heart stopped for a second. I had seen pictures of this man before. He looked almost exactly like he had twelve years ago when the mug shots had been taken. Worried about Harry's reaction, I glanced at him and extended my wand arm towards him, intending to grasp his hand in the hopes that he wouldn't do anything rash.

The moment I moved, Black cast a disarming charm and both my wand and Harry's flew out of our hands and into his. And then he started talking.

It had all been an elaborate plot to lure Harry here. I should have known. I should have realized that coming here with Harry was foolish. All year I'd been careful about Harry wandering the grounds, never letting him go out after or even near dark. I'd been the one to caution Harry against sneaking into Hogsmeade, the one who'd played devil's advocate and constantly ruined the boys' fun. I'd done it to keep Harry safe, but as soon as Ron had been in danger, I'd forgotten all of that. I'd ignored the potential dangers Harry might face and I'd run after Ron with him because Ron had been in danger.

Ron tried to lift himself to his feet, trying to look threatening and imposing, but his broken foot impeded him and I moved to help him and let him lean against me so that he wouldn't put pressure on it. Even though a broken leg was theoretically an easy fix, I preferred that he not agitate the problem. The worse he made the damage, the harder it would be to mend. And if it got infected – I tried not to think about what could happen if we didn't get out of here soon.

Harry's anger began to bubble up as Black spoke and he started yelling at him for everything that he'd done to him, his parents, and his parents' friends. I tried to reach for Harry, insisting that he be quiet lest we all be attacked, but he was too far gone. His rage reached an all time high. I'd never seen Harry lose it like he was now. Ron, sure. Ron lost his temper all the time. But Harry favored quiet disappointment, sadness, angst. This was the first time I'd seen him completely blow up.

With no wand to use as a weapon, Harry lunged at Black and started to punch him in the face. I screamed and Ron tried to move, but he couldn't with his injured leg. One of Black's hands wrapped around one of the stolen wands he was carrying and sparks began to fly from the tip. Though they were missing Harry right now, they wouldn't be for long. Then Black's other hand found Harry's throat and started to tighten around it. I had to do something.

I surged forward, forgetting about Ron for the moment, and kicked Black's hand before he could choke Harry's life away. With a cry, Black released Harry and started to roll away, and then Ron somehow threw himself forward and he landed on the floor on top of Black's wand hand. With the sudden impact, Black's grip on the wands slackened and they all fell to the floor.

Harry scrambled for the wands, which were rolling in every direction and I reached for Ron, who couldn't move on his own with his injured leg. He was grunting in pain and Black was rolling away and picking himself up when Harry cried out again.

I whirled around and saw that Crookshanks had jumped at Harry with his claws out when he had tried to pick up a wand. Harry swung his arm and sent Crookshanks flying at a wall, but the cat darted forward to where Harry's wand lay almost immediately. Harry yelled, kicking the cat away. For the first time, I didn't reprimand Harry for hurting my cat. I was appalled and horrified that Crookshanks was helping Sirius Black and it was taking all that I had not to crumple under the weight of the knowledge that this was all my fault. I was reaching for Ron's hand to help him up when Harry shouted at us to move out of the way.

I could see he was serious, so I gave Ron a push towards the bed, hoping he could use it to right himself, and I scrambled for the other two wands now lying in a corner of the room. When I turned to face the room again, I saw that Ron had reached the bed and was now clutching at his leg with a screwed-up expression of pain filling his face. His complexion was turning a little green, and I panicked, wondering how much longer he could last without medical attention.

Harry approached Black carefully, his wand out and pointed right at the criminal's face. Black had apparently not managed to get up and was lying on the ground at the edge of a wall. Harry reached him and stopped, looking down at him with an expression of disgust across his face as he began to speak. I could hear the slight waver in his tone that said he wasn't completely in control of himself.

Suddenly, Crookshanks leapt from across the room right at Black. For a moment, I thought he was going to kill the man and my faith in my cat was restored, but then he settled himself protectively on top of Black's heart, glaring at Harry with the face that I thought I had known.

Black tried to push the cat away, but I knew that if Crookshanks was determined to be there, he couldn't be moved. I sucked in a breath, forcing the tears away. This was the not the time to fall apart.

Harry raised his wand and I felt a brief panic, knowing that he was going to kill Crookshanks. He was still my cat despite his being in league with Black. I shut my eyes willing it to just be done. When Harry didn't seem to move or say anything, I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was still standing over Black, his wand raised, but he couldn't seem to get the spell out.