I hold my wand against the sphere of iron, sending ripples across the surface as I manipulate its shape.

'This really isn't that hard. I'm kind of surprised.'

You're just talented. I'm sure any number of the fools in your classes would be unable to do this, even after all our practice.

'We can't change the nature of the metal, right? Because it's a transition metal?'

Yes, we'd need a Philosopher's Stone for that. Pure transition metals tend to be very finicky.

'I almost wish I'd been able to hold on to the Stone at the end of my first year. That would be really useful right now.'

Well… you were eleven and I doubt you would have been able to hide the Stone from Dumbledore anyways. No sense in lamenting over what could have been.

'Still…'

I know. We just have to keep working with what we've got. We've not had help before, and we don't need it now.

'Right.'

Ron enters the dorm and throws his bag down at the foot of his bed. "Hey, Harry. What are you doing?"

I flatten the iron into a disc. "Practising."

"Er… right. So, um, want to hang out?"

I try something more intricate and turn the iron into a knife. "Not really."

Ron looks a little uncomfortable. "Uh, look, I can tell that you're having a moment, but can you please not make knives when I ask a question? It's a bit unnerving."

I sigh and turn the iron into a dome before putting it on my bedside table. "Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind."

"I know." He says flatly. "We all know. I've noticed, Neville's noticed, Dean and Seamus have noticed, Hermione's noticed, Lavender's noticed, Parvati's noticed, and Fay's noticed, too."

I look at him. "Who the fuck is Fay?"

Ron sighs. "That's not… Look, are you okay, mate? I get it, you're worried — you have every right to be worried. I'm just concerned about your… what did Hermione call it… mental health?"

"My mental health is fine, Ron." The last thing I need is people poking around in my head, least of all someone as nosy as Hermione. It's bad enough that Dumbledore has tried to do it once — that I know of.

"If you're sure. Just… take care of yourself. You're obviously stressed and none of us want you doing anything reckless."

Given that I'll be chasing down two criminals later tonight, recklessness is clearly in my future. Though, if all goes well, it will be the last bit of recklessness I'll have to do for a long time. Black, Pettigrew, and Voldemort will all be out of my hair for good.

If all goes well.

It'll be fine, Harry.

'Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?'

…

'Yeah, that's what I thought.'

We've hedged the risks as much as possible. We have your cloak, we're both powerful, and neither of them will be expecting us. Black spent over a decade in Azkaban, and Pettigrew spent most of that same time as a rat. Dumbledore's alert charms have been neutralised.

'You're still nervous, though.'

Of course I'm nervous! Believe me when I say that no matter how much you plan, things can still go wrong. You're never prepared for everything, so the best you can do is prepare as much as possible and be prepared to improvise if things go wrong.

'You're speaking from experience.'

I am. Why do you think I have so many contingencies prepared? Layers upon layers of redundancies, diversions, and protections, all to make sure that my immortality is not compromised.

'And yet you told me.'

You're different.

'How?'

…You just are. I don't know how to explain it.

Ron yells, snapping me out of that conversation before I can question her further.

"Sorry, what was that?" I ask.

Ron just groans. "That's it, I'm going to drag you with me and make sure that you just… do normal stuff instead of whatever it is you've been stressing about. Neville and I were going to hang out for a bit."

"Look, this really isn't a good day for this." I insist. "Can't we do this some other time?"

Ron deflates. "I mean, I guess. We're just worried."

"Look, tomorrow, okay? I just have some time-sensitive stuff I need to do today, but tomorrow I should be free."

"Alright, alright." Ron nods. "You're not about to do anything dangerous, right?"

"No." I lie. "It'll be fine. Like I said, it's just time sensitive. If you really want, I can spend some time with you for a bit, though I will have to leave at some point."

His face lights up. "Yeah, that'd be great. Come on, Neville and I found a great empty classroom on the second floor."

I hop out of bed and follow him out of the dorm.

The room is quite nice. There are a large number of plush-looking armchairs strewn about, several sturdy tables, and a large window seat overlooking the northern part of the valley. I throw myself into one of the chairs.

"Who do you suppose set this place up?" I ask. "No way these furnishings were here originally."

Ron shrugs. "Not sure, but I doubt they'll mind. This place hasn't been used in some time."

Neville nods. "I spent a while cleaning all the dust. I suspect it's been years."

As Neville and Ron begin to make small talk, I try to divide my consciousness again. Part of me stays in control of my body, and the rest of me draws into my mindspace until my awareness of the physical world fades away.

'Alright, let's clean up a bit around here.'

Right.

I slowly begin trawling through my memories, picking out ones that don't belong to me. I'm not sure how long it takes — the passage of time is nearly imperceptible without any degree of physical awareness.

Eventually, Tam shoves a heap of memories into my mind, and I return the favour.

Good, this is a lot less than before. Looks like we're managing it pretty well.

'Is there anything we can do to lessen it further? It's an utter pain to have to do this every few days.'

So long as we stay on top of it, the rate should stay low. As much of an annoyance as it's been. I would rather take the time to stay on top of it than risk the consequences.

I manifest in my mindspace. "So, what now?"

Tam manifests in front of me. "With that taken care of, there's nothing to do but wait. The ward bypass isn't likely to be active until around sunset."

"So we just need to kill time. Another memory?" I ask.

She sighs. "I suppose, if we must. This one is in Knockturn Alley in the winter break of my fifth year. I expect you'll see a familiar face there."

As usual, she doesn't give me time to comment.

I reapply the warming charm to my cloak as I make my way deeper into the exceedingly filthier side alleys. Supposedly, the entirety of Diagon is under trace suppression wards, and Knockturn along with it, but I still feel better knowing that I finally cracked the Trace on my wand. I'm not sure what the extent of the tracking it provides is, but I really don't want anyone knowing I came here. The less the chance this can be traced to me, the better.

It took a large number of discreet inquiries, but I finally found rumours about a copy of Dividing the Soul in a very out-of-the-way shop in some of Knockturn's furthest recesses. It took me a while to cast all the necessary untraceable charms on the letters, but I finally got a result back.

The only question that remains is if I can afford it…

I finally reach the end of the side alley. Several large plants are growing out of a thick layer of dirt that seems to have been building up for years. The nearby storefronts are all boarded up and look to have been abandoned for decades — at least. The only store that isn't — the one I need — doesn't look much better. The windows aren't boarded, but they're so grimy that they're practically opaque.

I turn the door handle. I can feel it turn, but the door refuses to open when I push. I lean harder into it, trying to get it to open. It's clearly stuck, I just have to-

The door unsticks and opens, causing me to fall face first into a huge pile of dust. I cough as I start breathing it in, but that only causes more dust to fly into the air. I cast a bubble head charm to keep further dust out and wait for the coughing fit to pass.

I glance around the area. The entire interior of the store is covered in a layer of dust at least an inch thick. How can anyone possibly be maintaining this place? No one could possibly be here. Were the rumours about this place untrue?

"Dust is easy to deal with when you don't have to breathe." A voice says from my right, answering the question I never spoke aloud.

I jump and turn to see a pale man leaning against one of the shelves. It's impossible to tell in the poor lighting of the store, but his skin almost looks grey.

He steps closer, his footsteps completely silent against the floor, before leaning over to get a closer look at me. How is he so tall? I'm already taller than every other student at school!

"It's been a long time since I've had a customer, and even longer since I've had one as young as you. What brings you here, young lady?"

"I seek a book." I say defensively.

He gestures to the various shelves around him. Most are filled with books, but others have bizarre trinkets unlike anything I've ever seen. "As you can see, I have plenty of them. If you tell me the name of the book you seek, I might even be able to get it for you."

"Dividing the Soul. I don't know the author."

His amused gaze turns calculating. "Aren't you a bit young to be seeking immortality? You look fresh out of Hogwarts."

I don't correct his assumption, but decide to be honest in my answer. "Have you seen the devastation the muggles wrought? I've had one close call already, and I don't fancy another."

"I don't get out much." He says as he moves towards the counter. "Alfred, by the by. Pleasure."

He sweeps the layer of dust off of the counter.

"I do have a copy of the book in question, though I'm still surprised to see one of your age interested. Not even I chose to be turned until I was in my forties, and lifespans were much shorter back then."

Turn-?

Oh.

Vampire.

Well, that explains the silence, the pallor, and the dust. It's not like he breathes, so he wouldn't be bothered.

"How much for the book?" I ask. I don't care to discuss the philosophy of my motivations, I just want the assurance of knowing that my life is not at stake.

He pulls it off of one of the shelves behind the counter and sets it down in front of me. "This one is exceptionally rare, so I'd say… five hundred galleons."

I balk at that. Five hundred!? I sold every nonessential belonging I own, including several valuable enchanted objects I made myself, and I barely managed to scrape together one hundred galleons. "That is outside my price range. Considerably."

"A pity." He says, leaning on his arm. "What can you offer me, then? I'm willing to hear any alternative proposals you could make."

I mull it over. I should be able to scrape together just enough to afford my school supplies for next year, so that means… "I'm willing to offer 100 galleons to read the book. It stays in the store and I come here to read it. You clearly aren't getting many customers, so you could keep an eye on me should you desire."

He grins, showing off his fangs for the first time. "An entertaining proposal, but not quite enough. The secrets in this tome are secret for a reason. Many would and have killed to obtain or destroy the knowledge contained within. What can you offer me?"

I gaze at him for a moment. I know better than to try legilimency on him — a vampire as old as he claims to be could keep me out effortlessly. He's testing me… I think. Does he want me to prove that I want the book? How badly I want the book? I'm already offering money that I'd ideally need for school supplies. I can't afford to risk my education any further. What on earth would a vampire need besides…

Well, it is obvious, but I'll offer regardless.

"I offer my blood." I say. "I know that the Ministry is very harsh on vampires feeding on people without their permission, and I know that people very rarely consent due to prejudice. I get access to your book, and you get hassle-free feedings."

"I'd be remiss to pass on an opportunity like that." He says as he swings himself over the counter with unnatural fluidity. "And if you're willing to give up a part of yourself, you may well be able to see it through. Shall we start now?"

"Now?" I barely manage to stop my voice from squeaking. I take a deep breath to centre myself. "Yes, let's start now. I want to know what's in that book."

He steps behind me and gently places his hands on my shoulders. "Marvelous. Now just hold still for a moment — you won't feel a thing."

I do feel a faint pricking sensation on my neck as he bites in, but that sensation is quickly washed away by one of pure bliss. I find myself relaxing involuntarily, the tension leaving my muscles.

Some part of my brain starts screaming at me that this is wrong. I shouldn't be relaxed and I shouldn't be enjoying this and I need to make it stop! Forcing myself back into control of my body feels like wading through molasses, but I slowly make headway. Just as I feel like I'm about to regain control of my body, it ends.

"Feisty one, aren't you?" Alfred says as he casually strides back behind the counter. "You fought back quite a bit for someone who volunteered for this."

I roll my shoulders a few times. There's some lingering stiffness to the area, and I feel a little lightheaded from the blood loss, but it's no worse than anything I've experienced before. "I don't like not being in control." I say as I place the galleons on the counter.

"Clearly." He slides the book across the counter. "Well, it's yours for the reading. I won't take any more galleons from you, but I will request additional secondary payments for any subsequent visits. Feel free to take notes, though I would discourage spreading this information around."

I scoff. "As if I'd want anyone else knowing how I made myself immortal. No, I'll be keeping this from as many people as I can."

He nods and leans back against the wall behind the counter. "Alright then. Go ahead."

I pull out a piece of parchment and open the book, desperate to make the most of my time here. I only have a few weeks before I'll be back at school, and then I won't have access to the book again until summer. "This isn't copy protected, is it?" I ask.

He shakes his head.

I'll have to remember to bring a blank notebook with me so I can use a transcription spell on it next time. Still, at least I can get started.

It doesn't take me long to determine how the book got its title. A horcrux is a part of one's soul that's been split off and sealed in an object. It takes advantage of a loophole with how souls work when it comes to bindings, essentially getting the same immortality of a phylactery without the downside of losing one's magic. So long as one part of the soul is bound, the other parts cannot pass on. It's absolutely perfect for my purposes.

I flip ahead a few pages. The ritual for creating one is extremely freeform, so intent is far more important than most rituals. I flip ahead a few more pages to get to the most important part — the primary ritual catalyst. Let's see… intent, object, willpower… ah, there it is.

To make a horcrux, one needs to commit an act of voluntary murder.

Well shit.

I have to kill someone. I have to fucking kill someone. It makes sense from a symbolic perspective — the loss of one life to protect another — but that doesn't make me comfortable with it. Who would I even kill? There's always-

The memory cuts off there. Unlike most times, I don't reappear in my mindspace.

I hate to cut this short, but the detection charm just went off. We need to go now. I'd take control, but part of your consciousness is still there and I don't want to risk any potential side effects of forcing only part of your consciousness out of control.

I pause for a second as I process all of that.

'Right, let's go.'

I slip back in control of my body, remerging my awareness and shoving the memories of the past few hours into a corner of my mind to be dealt with later.

"I've got to go." I tell Ron and Neville, who are both hunched over a… disassembled chess board? Whatever, it doesn't matter.

"Alright, take care, Harry." Ron says before turning back to the board. "See, if we adjust this bit…"

I make for the door, but am interrupted by a breathless Hermione barging in first. "There you two are! I've been looking all over for you. Look, I was just…" She huffs several times, never moving from the doorway.

"Can this wait, Hermione?" I say, trying to move past her. "I need to get going."

She shoots me a glare. "No, this cannot wait! I went to Trelawney's room so I could drop her class — I've had enough of her tripe at this point, and my time is precious with my course load. That's not important, though! She was in a… trance or something. I think she gave an actual prophecy!"

I stare at her skeptically. "Are you sure she gave an actual prophecy? That fraud?"

"I mean… Look, I've seen her in lots of states before, but none of them were like this. Her eyes were wide and glassy, and she had no memory of what happened afterwards."

"Given the amount of time she spends drinking, that's hardly surprising." I say dryly. "It seems more likely to me that the incense got to you when she was particularly drunk."

"Whatever her faults are, I'm sure Dumbledore hired her for a reason!" Hermione insists. "I'm certain that this was a real prophecy!" Her eyes widened. "Oh Merlin, and she said it to me! Does that mean-"

"I can't say I care." I say as I try to push past her. Unfortunately, the extra few inches of height she has on me make it easy for her to shove me back.

"This is serious, Harry! Prophecies are serious business!" She says.

I roll my eyes. "I know that, Hermione — I have been reading the textbook for the class. It's not like Trelawney is teaching us anything useful, after all. I just doubt that anything that comes out of Trelawney's mouth is any actual form of foresight. Back me up on this, Ron."

Ron sighs, obviously annoyed at being brought into another argument between me and Hermione. "Sorry, Hermione, but I have to back Harry on this. I know as well as anyone how serious prophecies are, but really? Her?"

"See, Ron's being sensible about this. Now, if you're done wasting my time, I have elsewhere to be. Business to see to, and all that." I shove past her and start walking down the hallway.

I hear her turn around and start following me. "Harry, wait-"

"Stupefy."

I don't look behind me, but I hear Hermione fall to the ground as the spell I cast over my shoulder knocks her out. I can't risk any more delays. I leap over the railing in the grand staircase and cast a cushioning charm to break my fall.

'Trelawney, a seer. What a stupid idea.'

The sun is just starting to dip below the treelines and the orange sky of sunset is reflected in the lake. I move towards the outside of the Great Hall, near where the Whomping Willow is planted. Its branches shudder as I get closer, but I don't feel like wasting any time.

"Flipendo."

The orange burst hits the sensitive knot on the tree and it shudders and stills. I jump into the newly opened gap in its roots and start walking down the cramped tunnel. Thankfully, it opens up after a few feet, leaving me free to stop hunching.

'I really hope we know what we're walking into.'

It'll be fine.

Despite her words, I can feel the slight gnawing of apprehension at the edge of her consciousness. I push that aside and focus on preparing myself. I don the invisibility cloak, then cast silencing and scent-masking charms on myself.

One more for good measure.

Tam takes control of my body and casts another spell on us without breaking stride.

'What was that?'

Heat masking charm. I have no idea if dogs or rats can sense heat, but I know that some animals like snakes can, and I'd rather not take the chance.

'Sensible.'

The passage to the Shrieking Shack is far longer than the others, though that makes sense given that it's on the far side of Hogsmeade. It's also less well-maintained. The Honeydukes passage was at least clean and well-lit, while this one has the occasional cobweb and is entirely dark. Whatever magicks keep the torches in Hogwarts lit are obviously not active here. I can barely see, and I don't dare cast a light charm lest I alert my targets.

'I kind of wish I'd learned how to cast the supersensory charm.'

That would be rather convenient right about now, wouldn't it? Unfortunately, I don't know the charm either. It must have been invented after I was stored in the diary, as I didn't know such a spell even existed until last year when I was possessing Ginny.

It's strange, being cloaked in so many obfuscation charms. It almost makes everything feel hazy. So hazy that I nearly miss the staircase at the end of the tunnel.

'This is it.'

Tam doesn't respond. I can feel a faint prickling coming from the part of the mind she occupies, ready to take over in an instant if I falter. It takes delicate steps to ascend the rotting stairs, even more so to ascend without making any noise. Luckily, the house is settling, so any missteps I make are hidden beneath the natural creaking of the wood.

The ground floor is a complete mess. Bits of furniture have been smashed to pieces and strewn about wildly. Deep gouges line the walls. Frankly, I wonder why they even bothered furnishing the place given that it was only ever going to be used to contain a werewolf. Faint whispers are coming from upstairs, so I sneak up there.

Sirius Black is holding a man — whom I can only assume is Peter Pettigrew — by the collar, holding a wand to his throat.

"Thirteen years, you rat. Thirteen years with nothing but the nightmares and fantasies of this running through my head. How do you think it felt? Did you enjoy your time living in luxury as a pet, Peter?"

Pettigrew just whimpers in reply.

Looks like Black is a little more unhinged than people gave him credit for.

'Time to press the advantage, then.'

I release a flurry of spells, disarming Sirius, then binding and immobilising them both. I flip Sirius around so that they're both facing me, then remove the hood of the invisibility cloak.

"Finally." I say. "It's taken me all year, but I finally have both of you exactly where I want you. Do either of you have any idea what an utter pain you made it to track you down? Granted, it would have been easier if Lupin didn't keep getting in the way, but none of that matters now, does it?"

I feel Sirius start struggling against my spells, so I release him, keeping my wand trained on him.

"Something you'd like to share with the class, Black?" I drawl.

"It's… I don't care if you kill me." He says shakily. "But make sure you kill the rat, too!" His voice raises to a shout. "Thirteen years I've suffered for this, but I won't die for nothing!"

"Neither of you will be dying tonight." I explain. "I need the two of you to take a message to your 'master'."

"I have no master!" Sirius shouts as Pettigrew's gaze turns calculating. "I would sooner have died than betrayed James!"

"Bull shit." I say as I step towards him. "You mean to tell me that despite being publicly known as 'Voldemort's right-hand man' and spending thirteen years in prison for that crime, you never had anything to do with her?"

"There's no way in hell I would serve that bitch!"

I feel a flash of irritation from Tam, but my attention is more focused on Sirius. I twist my wand in my hand. "Legilimens."

I don't need the spell to use legilimency anymore, but it can be used to give any probes an extra degree of power to make it harder for occlumens to resist, although it comes at the expense of finesse and subtlety. Fortunately, I don't need to worry about subtlety when looking through the mind of a wanted criminal.

Black's mind is a mess, which I suppose is expected from someone who spent over a decade in the company of dementors. The threads are torn and tangled, and a few memories are left floating freely with no threads connecting them at all, like a botched obliviation. It doesn't take long for me to find the relevant memory, not with how recently he was thinking about it.

Sirius is standing in a living room of sorts, explaining a plan to my parents while a timid looking Peter stands to the side. Sirius is insisting that they tell everyone that he's the secret keeper while actually entrusting the duty to the unobvious choice of Peter Pettigrew. A diversionary tactic to buy them additional time against Voldemort's search until she could — hopefully — be defeated.

I follow one of the threads from that memory to another one. Sirius is sitting in a flat — his flat, I gather from the memory — when a decorative kettle on the wall starts giving off a shrieking whistle. Sirius apparates to Godric's Hollow in an instant. If that kettle is whistling, then it means that someone has died in James's house. The looming sense of terror only grows when he finds himself pushed several houses down the street, instead of appearing in the den, as he meant to. Someone has put up anti-apparition wards, ones that aren't allowing him in. He starts running down the street when an explosion erupts from the upper floor of his destination. There are shrieks as bricks fall into the street and the muggles celebrating their version of the holiday run for cover.

He doesn't give himself time to think until he sees James slumped over dead on the stairs. Something inside of Sirius tears apart at the sight of his best friend, dead. This isn't… it shouldn't…

The rest of the memory is clouded by the haze of grief. Lily is also dead. Harry is alive. There's a nasty gash in his forehead. Hagrid shows up. The fidelius is down. Harry needs medical attention. Sirius hands over the keys to his motorbike. He keeps it parked here. There's no space for it at his flat. Hagrid takes Harry and turns to leave.

"It's not your fault, Sirius." He says before trudging down the stairs.

That cuts through the haze in Sirius's mind. It is his fault. It was him who was supposed to be the secret keeper. It was him who was supposed to have died. It was him who suggested Peter.

Peter…

A fire starts burning inside him once he thinks about Peter. If Voldemort made it here, then what happened to Peter? He could have been tortured and killed, but…

There's a spy in the order. Someone who'd evaded all of their attempts to weed them out. They'd scoffed at the idea that it was one of the Marauders, but now Sirius isn't so sure…

He needs answers, and he's going to do whatever it takes to find them.

I follow another thread to another memory. Sirius has finally tracked down Peter. He's walking in the middle of a street when Sirius calls out his name. Peter whips around, fear in his eyes.

"Peter… what happened?"

Peter stares at him in fear until something clicks in his head and he starts yelling. "How could you do this Sirius!? How could you betray James and Lily like that!? They'd be ashamed of-"

Sirius's mind is still reeling in shock when Peter blows himself up. Sirius barely has time to put up a shield when the shockwave hits him. He sees several of the nearby pedestrians screaming in pain. Some of the ones closest to Peter have been blown up. Blood is pooling on the pavement. He can see lots of parts of bodies, but there's no sign of Peter.

Sirius collapses in anguish. There's nothing left. James is dead. Lily is dead. Peter is dead. His best friend is dead and the one who took them out just killed himself. The fires of revenge that have been keeping him going for the past few days die. There's nothing left and it's all his fault.

Sirius is barely cognizant by the time they take him to Azkaban. He's had nothing but his own grief keeping him company for days. This is no worse.

I try following another thread, but it's frayed and tangled. I find plenty of similar memories, all Sirius sitting in his cell wallowing in his sorrow. There was never a trial. Eventually, he starts to pull himself together, casually chatting with whatever people on the rare occasions they come through. I tug on the thread relating to Pettigrew and follow it to the next relevant memory. Sirius gets a newspaper from Fudge and on it is a picture of a family. He almost looks past it so he can skip to the crossword, but something catches his eye. The rat, sitting in the youngest boy's hand. He knows that rat. He's known that rat for years.

Pettigrew.

He's alive, somehow, and hiding out with this family. The Weasleys? Not where he'd expect a traitor like Pettigrew to be hiding, but…

But that doesn't matter. The fire of revenge burns in him again. The rat is alive, and has been all this time. Sirius plans to put a stop to that.

I pull out of his mind. Sirius is innocent. Sirius somehow spent over a decade in Azkaban despite that. My already low faith in the Ministry plummets to new depths.

Moreover, Pettigrew was in front of us the whole time! Fucking hell, how did we never connect Scabbers to Lupin's rat race!?

Gods fucking dammit! Is it too much to ask that one of my plans goes off without a hitch?

'Well, given that he's innocent, should we just ignore him and send Pettigrew off to Voldemort?'

Possibly, but… if we can get Sirius exonerated, then we'd have leverage over a potentially powerful ally. The problem is… how would we do that while still leaving Pettigrew free to carry on our message?

'We need a new plan.'

I know, I know, I'm doing my best, I just need-

The door slams open and a haggard looking Lupin runs into the room.

'Goddammit! Can he not just leave us the fuck alone!?'

"Harry, get away from them!" Lupin shouts. "Sirius is probably innocent, but he might still be dangerous!"

"Can't you just leave well enough alone!?" I yell. "Why do you keep getting in my way!?"

"Harry, please." Lupin begs.

I point my wand at him. "Get out of here and stay out of my way. Leave now."

He raises a shield. "Harry, please. I don't want to hurt you."

"That's funny." I say with a small laugh. "Because I'd really like to hurt you."

Lupin lashes out with a harmless disarming spell. I don't bother to block it and wandlessly resummon my wand before it's even left my hand. "You'll have to do better than that, Professor."

I can feel all of the pent up anger towards Lupin from the past few months. Preventing me from going out of bounds, meddling in my personal affairs, showing up at all sorts of inconvenient times, throwing off my every attempt to track him down until I used the bloody Room of Requirement!

I can feel Tam seething, too. Angry at every single plan of hers being foiled. Killing me was foiled by my being a horcrux, possessing me was foiled by my mother, getting to Black was foiled by Lupin, finding Pettigrew was foiled by Lupin.

Everything that's gone wrong these past few months has been Lupin's fault.

As he fires a stunner at us, something snaps. All of that rage floods to the surface and starts boiling.

I want to see this man hurt.

I reach into the substantial pool of magical power at my disposal to make Lupin's spell fizzle out midair.

"Get 'the fuck' out of 'my way'!" We yell in unified rage.

"I don't want to hurt you, Harry." Lupin says, his voice slightly tinged with fear.

"'Die.'" We reply.

We dispatch with all of the schoolyard magic and go straight to the strong stuff. A loud thunderclap resonates through the room as we launch a lightning bolt at Lupin. It's absorbed by a shield he raises at the last minute, but we don't let up. Bits of furniture are levitated at our command and transfigured into a stream of knives. They all shatter on impact as he conjures a physical shield.

We let loose with everything we know. Bone breakers, desiccation, disemboweling, tar balls, fire streams, icicle barrages and so on. Lupin is kept purely on defence, but we can't manage to land a hit on him.

The anger reaches a new peak as he is once again proving to be an obstinate thorn in our side. A new spell comes to mind, and we give it a go because, at this point, I want him to hurt.

I channel all of that rage onto my next spell as I hold my wand steady. "Crucio."

"No!" Black yells, throwing himself into the spell's path. Tricky little bastard must have been trying to sneak over to Lupin while we were fighting, but that thought is washed away by a wave of pure, euphoric pleasure as Black screams in agony under our spell.

It feels good. It feels right. This is how it should be — people screaming in agony at our command. I almost wish it could never end.

Lupin rudely interrupts by launching a nightmare curse at us. It seems he's resorting to more advanced methods of incapacitation. I block it easily with a simple piece of conjured wood.

"'Why Professor, we didn't think you had it in you.'"

"Who are you?" Lupin asks. "You're not Harry Potter." Four different shields are shimmering around him. We recognise the energy, physical, and adaptive shields, but the fourth one is a mystery. Not that it matters. We have the full power of Voldemort at our disposal.

"'We are something more. Now die!'"

We launch a bludgeoner from our wand and a banisher from our free hand. Neither makes a dent in his shields, but the force applied to them makes him stagger long enough for us to go on the offensive again. Explosive curses of all varieties fly out of our wand, randomising the order so that the adaptive shield doesn't have a chance to adjust to them.

'Bombarda, Expulso, Reducto, Expulso, Confringo, Bombarda, Bombarda.'

Cracks appear in his Lupin's shields. He drops the physical one so he can try to withstand the assault, but it's merely delaying the inevitable.

'Confringo, Confringo, Reducto, Expulso, Bombarda, Confringo, Bombarda, Reducto.'

The adaptive shield shatters, leaving the protego as his sole remaining defence. I keep randomising the order of the spells to discourage him from attempting to raise another.

'Expulso, Expulso, Confringo, Reducto, Bombarda, Reducto.'

The final shield shatters, leaving Lupin vulnerable, but I'm not inclined to let up.

'Confringo, Reducto, Bombarda, Expulso, Expulso, Expulso, EXPULSO!'

The dust kicked up by the onslaught slowly clears, revealing Lupin lying in a heap of debris. He's bleeding from several cuts of varying thickness and depth, and his skin is covered in burns of varying intensity. His limbs are bent at all sorts of wrong angles and his breathing is shallow.

We laugh.

'That felt good.'

The creak of a floorboard behind us has us whipping around to point our wand at a timid looking Pettigrew who's making his way towards the window. We stare at each other for a moment, each daring the other to make a move. We move first, firing a stunner at him, only for Pettigrew to duck under it, transforming into a rat. He scuttles towards a gap in the floorboards, but we lash out with a Carpe Retractum. He struggles in vain against the tether, but we decide to take him out of the fight quickly. We pull our wand upward, flinging him in an arc and smashing him down on the floor behind us. He turns back to a human midair in a vain attempt to regain control, but he's quickly rendered unconscious as his head is smashed straight through the floorboards.

We fire a stunner at Black, just to be safe, and pause for a moment to catch our breath. Doing that much point casting takes a lot out of a person. Slowly, as we catch our breath, We start extricating our personalities from each other. It takes some time before I open my eyes, taking stock of my body to confirm that I'm me — just me — once again.

'What was that?'

I'm not sure, but it was… existentially disorienting.

'Seriously, though, what caused that?'

Ugh, I'm not sure. If I was to conjecture, though, I'd think that, I don't know, continuous close contact between our souls made it possible. Perhaps the fact that we were both experiencing heightened emotions of the same type played in? I don't know. I have a headache.

'You don't have a head.'

I know! And that just makes it worse!

I look around the room at the thoroughly destroyed room and the three unconscious Marauders.

'So, what do we do now?'

Obliviate Lupin to start with. We'll blame the damage he took on Pettigrew and attribute any memory loss to blunt force trauma. What to do with Black and Pettigrew is a whole other matter, though…

I feel her thinking for some time. Eventually, she comes up with an idea that satisfies her.

Okay, it's going to be complicated, but I have a plan. We need to alter the memories of Black and Peter. We came here because of your stupid hero complex-

'I think you've done a decent job curing me of that.'

Yes I have. Now, we say that we came here for your stupid hero complex and were immediately disarmed by Pettigrew, who then used your wand to incapacitate Black. He spent some time gloating until Lupin showed up. The duel progressed as it did, complete with Black taking the Cruciatus, but it was Pettigrew who duelled him, not you. We took advantage of the lull after the fight to take your wand back and incapacitate him.

'Is it possible to actually edit memories?'

Yes, but it's very tricky work. I'll handle this part, as you have no experience and this is far too important to botch. It requires swapping various threads connected to the original memory for ones related to the modified memory. All of the threads have to be connected properly for the false memory to take.

'Okay, so what do we actually do with Pettigrew? We still need him to send a message to Voldemort, remember?'

That's where things get a little tricky and a little risky. I'm going to be winging this a bit, but my general idea is that we turn them both in. We get whatever promises we can then spring Pettigrew before they can have him shipped off to Azkaban.

'There's… a lot that can go wrong there.'

I know, but I'm trying to improvise here, and I think previous experiences have made it clear that I don't come up with the most watertight plans when I don't have adequate time!

'Okay, so… obliviate Lupin, edit the memories of Black and Pettigrew, get some assurances of trials, then spring Pettigrew. …Will we be springing Pettigrew before or after he gets a trial?'

Before, ideally. The longer we wait, the harder it will be to do.

I turn my wand to Lupin. "Obliviate."

The magicks of the spell give me a rudimentary degree of protection from the unnatural nature of the werewolf's mind, though it still feels like I'm being watched the entire time. It doesn't take long for me to find the right memory and tear it to pieces.

Next, Tam takes over and begins slowly editing Black's memories. I tag along as she does so, watching as she uses legilimency to subtly nudge things into the new place. Watching her rethread the memories is the most fascinating part, as she looks at memories in a way that's completely new to me.

Normally, I see the threads tying memories themselves together, but Tam starts looking at the threads within the memory. I get a good look at myself as I fight Lupin and see the threads attached to me. One is obviously "Harry", and the second one is "James". Both of those make sense.

There are two other threads, though. These relate more to the style in which I fought than how Sirius identifies me. One of the threads is, unsurprisingly, "Voldemort". That makes sense given that Tam was in control as much as I was. The other is one I don't recognise, the name "Bellatrix".

I consider tracing the thread, but Tam pulls it away and replaces it with Pettigrew's threads. With one final prod, the memory takes on the form that its threads imply — Pettigrew brutally duelling Lupin while I stand timidly in the corner. Certainly not an accurate image of me, but it will help sell the illusion.

Hmm… I think it would be best if we informed Pettigrew now. We'll do a reversible obliviation afterwards, so that way when we spring him, we just need to reverse the charm instead of completely bringing him into the loop.

'Are there any risks involved in doing that? Like, couldn't someone else restore the memory and get him to talk?'

Technically, the obliviation could be reversed by a mind healer or other experienced legilimens, but I have no plan of letting things get that far. He could even reverse it himself if his occlumency is good enough. The thing is, all of those would take at least a week. It won't come to that.

'If you insist…'

I do. Now, let me wake him up.

A flick of my wand sends him into the air, where Tam levitates him. "Renervate."

His eyelids flutter for a moment, before shooting open eyes wide in terror as he realises he's helplessly suspended in midair. His gaze fixes on me and he begins to stammer. "H-Harry, please. You must understand, killing me won't bring them back. I never wanted them to get hurt, but-"

"Shut. Up." Tam hisses. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. No, I have a special task that only you can accomplish for me. I'm going to obliviate this conversation from your mind, hand you over to the aurors, then bust you out and send you on your merry way."

Pettigrew just whimpers.

"I need you to find Voldemort and pass on a message for me. Tell her that her diary is waiting and wants to negotiate on behalf of Harry Potter."

"I don't… but you…"

"I have to wipe your memory now. I can't very well have you blabbing on me for using an Unforgivable when you confess to framing Sirius. Stupefy."

Pettigrew slumps over midair.

Now for the obliviation. You may want to observe, on the off chance you ever need to perform a reversible one.

Irreversible obliviation requires shredding a memory into its component threads using the energy of the spell. It's hardly delicate work, but it does require a certain amount of willpower.

Reversible obliviation is much more delicate, from what I see of Tam doing it. She uses the energy of the spell to slice at the threads connecting it to other memories while leaving the memory intact. She then pushes the disconnected memory down into the metaphysical representation of the subconscious.

Now I just need to edit the memory of our duel so everything lines up, and we'll be set.

She then goes about tweaking Pettigrew's memory of the event, albeit with much greater care. She takes much more time to adjust the threads, focusing on emotional details.

It's far easier to edit memories to make them think that they saw something different, rather than making them think that they did something different.

Still, eventually, she's satisfied with her work and withdraws, handing control of my body back over to me.

We'll leave Lupin here. I'm not inclined to help him, and we can give them some tripe about him being too wounded for us to safely move.

'No complaints from me.'

I flick my wand to lift Sirius and Pettigrew with a Mobilicorpus, then set out towards the tunnel.

'I still really don't like this plan, Tam.'

Well, maybe we won't have to use it if you come up with a better one, Sherlock!

'Maybe I will!'

I don't.

I tried to think of one the whole time I'm in the secret passage, but even as I emerge from the passage under the whomping willow, my mind is coming up blank. The sun has set by this point, but the grounds are brightly illuminated by the light of the moon.

'Looks like we're going with your plan after all. Shall we take them to Flitwick? He's the least likely to give us excessive scrutiny. McGonagall would be too put out at the recklessness to get anything done for some time, and I really don't fancy spending the last few months of the term in detention. Snape wouldn't even pretend to hear us out, I barely known Sprout, and there's no way in hell we're subjecting ourselves to the scrutiny of-'

"Hello, Mister Potter." An obnoxiously familiar voice greets us.

I resist the urge to flinch and turn to see a stony-faced Dumbledore coming from the direction of the castle. "Hello, Professor. What brings you out here?"

"I could ask you the same question, Mister Potter. It's not every day that a student is out after curfew carrying the unconscious bodies of a wanted criminal and a man who's supposed to be dead."

"Just… taking care of business, sir." I lie less than gracefully.

"Hm." Dumbledore says, with a tone that implies he doesn't entirely believe me. "I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when the alert charms I cast on this passage didn't go off this evening. Especially when Professor Lupin sent me a patronus message telling me that 'I see Harry on the map chasing Pettigrew to the Shrieking Shack. Get in touch with the Minister so we can sort out Sirius's innocence.'"

The map. I cannot believe we forgot about the fucking map. "You knew of Sirius's innocence, then?"

"Remus had his suspicions about it, yes. He informed me of such and kept me in the loop about his investigation. Where is he, anyways? Did he not want to risk exposing himself?"

Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, I stick as close to the truth as possible. "Lupin was badly injured in a fight that ensued after he distracted me. I didn't know if it was safe to move him."

I can feel him scrutinizing me for another few minutes before turning, though not in a way that leaves me at his back. Whether that's a coincidence or a sign that he doesn't trust me, I can't say.

"It appears the Minister has arrived. Shall we go greet him?" Dumbledore pulls out his wand and yanks the bodies of Black and Pettigrew out of my control with his own spell. Rude.

Normally, I'd suspect that he's trying to take the credit for himself, but that's not his style. What is he up to?

"Minister, Kingsley, John. I'm pleased to see you all made it here fine."

"Yes, yes, what's this all about?" Fudge asks. "I'm a very busy man, I'll have you know! I can't be faffing off at a moment's notice, even if it is you asking."

"I have someone you've been looking for." Dumbledore says, levitating the unconscious bodies over to the Aurors and Fudge. "And someone you haven't been looking for."

"That's… That's Sirius Black!" He exclaims. "And… some sort of homeless person? Is this your idea of a joke, Dumbledore?"

"That's Peter Pettigrew." The auror on the right hisses.

Fudge turns to the auror in question. "Who?"

The dark-skinned auror on the left sighs. "The man whom Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban for killing."

Fudge's brow furrows and he turns back to look at Pettigrew. "Ah yes, that nasty business. I must say, though, he doesn't look very dead, though, does he?"

"That's because he's not." The auror on the right says flatly.

"Remus Lupin and I discovered potential evidence indicating Sirius's innocence some months ago." Dumbledore explains. "Evidence in the form of a still-living Peter Pettigrew. This is not to say that Sirius is necessarily innocent, but it certainly warrants a full investigation into-"

"Absolutely not!" Fudge blusters. "Can you imagine how it would reflect on the Ministry to be seen re-evaluating a high profile case so many years later? No, Sirius Black is guilty. Best to have them both kissed and be done with it."

Dumbledore gives an exasperated sigh. "Cornelius, while I'm no doubt aware of the scrutiny the Ministry would be subjected to, surely freeing an innocent man would outweigh the potential harm."

"Oh, and what next? Sure, first Sirius Black is innocent, and then what? Antonin Dolohov is innocent? Bellatrix Lestrange is innocent? Augustus Rookwood is innocent!? Where would it end, Dumbledore!?"

My brain stutters as I try to follow that leap of logic.

'Is… is he trying to argue that due process is a slippery slope?'

I think he might be?

Dumbledore continues to argue with Fudge, who continues to counter with his own illogic.

I see that Dumbledore is trying to appeal to common sense where none exists. If I may?

I hand over control of my body and feel Tam put on her charming persona.

"Oh, but Minister, surely it would be worth it?" She says. "Imagine how the public would react to seeing you, Cornelius Fudge, right the wrongs of the past! Why, you'd be the greatest minister of the century!"

Fudge pinks slightly, but remains steadfast. "Now listen here, young man. I know it might seem that simple to you, but as any grown up can assure you, politics is very complicated."

I feel Tam internally twitch in irritation at being treated like a child, but she keeps it from showing with well-practiced ease. "Oh, but surely you could risk it for me? If you did, then I'd owe you soooo much." She says, putting specific emphasis on the word 'owe'.

I can see Fudge considering it for a moment before he begins to refute it again. "Now, that may be so, but…"

Tam doesn't give him time to recover, instead furthering the pressure on him. "Why, if you did this, then I would be so happy! I don't think I'd be able to shut up about what an amazing minister you are!"

"Ah, yes, well…" Fudge pauses, taking the time to consider Tam's offer. His desire to stick with his principles is at war with his desire to have the financial and public backing of the 'Boy-who-lived'.

And I think I know which of those two things will win out in the end.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to see them both tried in light of this new evidence. Make sure all the loose ends are tied up cleanly and whatnot. I'll just make sure that the right people get on the job."

Tam smiles earnestly and nods. "Of course, Minister. Thank you very much."

Fudge turns to the aurors. "Well, what are you waiting for? Detain these men and… do whatever it is aurors do when they detain people!"

I think I see them roll their eyes before they move into action. It doesn't take long for them to have both men bound under their own spells. The two men mutter between themselves before waking Black and Pettigrew. Black's eyes dart around for a moment before settling on Pettigrew, at which point he begins flailing in his bindings, yelling about how he's going to kill him. Pettigrew, for his part, just looks like a deer in the headlights. The aurors start asking questions and do their best to get answers out of the two of them.

"Well, we obviously have things in hand. I expect that concludes our business here?" Fudge says to Dumbledore. "I really must be off. A minister's work is never done, you know?"

"I'm sure. Come along, Mister Potter. We had best be getting back to the castle."

Dammit, no! We need to undo Pettigrew's mindwipe and help him escape!

'I don't suppose you have any ideas for how to accomplish that?'

I'm working on it!

'…We are so fucked.'

I don't work well under pressure!

At times like this, I wonder how Tam was able to become such a feared Dark Lady.

I heard that!

'Well it's true!'

"If it's all the same to you, Headmaster, then I'd like to take a little more time to chat with the Minister. I owe him so much, after all."

Dumbledore gives a disapproving glance, but nods nonetheless. "Very well then."

As Dumbledore walks back to the castle, I take stock of my situation. I'm standing here with the Minister of Magic, two members of law enforcement, and two unconscious men of dubious legal status. I need to free one of those dubious men and undo a memory charm on him without implicating myself in any way throughout the process.

'We really have our work cut out for us, don't we?'

Yeah, I really wish I'd had more time to plan.

'What we really need right now is a distraction…'

A deep snarling comes from the direction of the lake. I whip around to see a large creature charging towards us from the direction of the Whomping Willow.

'Son of a bitch.'

"Werewolf!" Fudge shouts as he stumbles backwards. "Aurors, protect me!"

The werewolf is moving fast, far faster than any human could. It's hard to tell how big it is from this distance, but it's clearly massive. And it seems to be ignoring Fudge and charging right at me.

I quickly run through everything Snape taught us about werewolves. Contagious claws and bites, extremely high healing factor, resistance to most forms of spellfire, weakness to true silver, slight weakness to transfigured silver…

I have enough skill in transfiguration to be able to make a silver weapon, but not in the amount of time I have before Lupin's on top of us. Thanks to Tam, I know several spells that could kill a werewolf outright, but none of them are legal, and the Minister and two members of law enforcement are right behind me. The only remaining viable strategy I can think of is kinetic impacts.

As it gets closer, I get a better sense of it. It's nearly as tall as me when it's on all fours, thick muscles rippling beneath dark gray fur as it charges. One of its legs is bent at the wrong angle, giving it a slight limp, and several patches of fur have been burned away, revealing singed skin underneath. It seems some of the damage we did to Lupin carried over.

Well, now or never. I've never done anything this complicated, but I can't afford to fail now. I thrust my wand into the ground and draw on all the magical power I can access — mine and Voldemort's. The wolf lunges at me, only for an enormous column of earth to rise up and smack it from below, sending it flying through the air with a pathetic whine.

Earth is a simple concept in alchemy. Yes, it's chemically complicated, but it's conceptually simple as one of the four classical elements. It's one of those times where magic cares more about perception than reality, making it as easy to manipulate as a pure metal.

I laugh as the wolf skids and tries to regain its footing. It starts charging, but I jab my wand to the ground again and send a wave of ripples through the ground, causing it to lose its footing before I smash it from the side with another piece of projected earth. It whimpers as it stands up from where it was tossed. It growls at me, but doesn't make any immediate moves, instead slowly stalking around me while glaring.

I think it's waiting for you to make the first move for a change.

'I suppose even beasts can learn.'

Still, be careful not to overexert yourself. You're using a lot of magic. I'd normally offer to take over, but your reflexes are better than mine, and you're handling yourself well so far.

'Thanks.'

The wolf charges again, and I pull up a wall in front of it in response. I hear it wail in pain from the impact, so I drop the wall back down. It's clearly dazed from the impact, so I go for a decisive strike. I raise up the earth on either side of it and fold them over, crushing it from above. It whines and whimpers and snarls as it tries to escape its prison, but I keep pushing the ground down until I'm confident it can't move anymore.

"Have any silver on you, Gentlemen?" I ask the Minister and his escorts. "I'd rather not leave this job unfinished."

"You beat the werewolf!" Fudge exclaims. "Proper miracle worker, this one, ey lads?"

"I'll call in to R&C about this." One of the aurors says. Which one is he, anyways? I know one is Kingsley and one is John, but I don't know which is which.

"I'm not looking forward to the amount of paperwork from this…" The dark-skinned auror mutters.

"Potter!" An unpleasantly familiar voice yells. "What in the blazes are you doing here!?"

"Hello, Professor Snape." I reply sarcastically. "It's nice to see you. How are you doing?"

"Spare me the niceties!" Snape yells back. "I have spent the past several hours trying to track down Lupin before he injures or — gods forbid — turns someone, only to find you out after curfew with a pinned werewolf and clear signs of a fight! Did you not learn your lesson from last year's incident where you attempted to fight a basilisk!? Did you hope to work your way up by fighting a slightly less dangerous beast!?"

"For your information, sir, I was out here hoping to have a chat with our esteemed Minister when we were rudely interrupted by it. I merely acted in self-defence to contain an obvious threat. Was that not the point of all of your werewolf defence classes all year?"

"Indeed!" Cornelius boasts. "This young lad saved us with his quick acting!"

Snape looks like he bit a lemon, though that's barely different from his default sour expression. "Well then, if you don't mind, I'm going to make sure that wolf is less of a threat." He pulls out a bottle filled with a shimmering white potion. "Better late than never…"

Well, we got our distraction. Time to take care of business.

'Yeah, let's…'

That thought trails off as I stare at the empty bundle of ropes behind the aurors.

"Where did Peter Pettigrew go?" I ask.

The aurors turn around. "Fuck, where did he go!?"

"You didn't bind his animagus form, you idiots!" Black yells from where he's trussed up. "I told you he's an animagus!"

"We kind of got sidetracked by the werewolf!" The auror yells back.

Dammit, no! Why can't we have one thing go right for us today!?

I ignore Tam's panicking for the time being. Pettigrew can't have gotten far, not as a rat. If he changed back to his human form, though…

"Animagus Revelio!" I shout, pouring as much power into the spell as I can. I'm relieved to feel a ping deep in the woods. The fact that he showed up on an animagus revealing charm means he hasn't transformed back yet, so I have a chance of catching up to him.

I sprint into the forest, ignoring the yells of protest from the aurors. I cast the charm repeatedly as I run through the trees. Unfortunately, while rats aren't that fast, they are much more manoeuvrable, so I'm not gaining on him nearly as much as I'd like, thanks to the uneven terrain. I can feel him pulling ahead of me every time I have to climb over a log that he could easily slip under. This would be so much easier if I could fly…

Oh. Duh.

"Accio Firebolt!" I say as I wave my wand in the direction of the castle. It takes a lot of energy for the spell to connect at this range, but I feel it take and turn my focus back to tracking Pettigrew. I just have to hope that the summoning charm will account for my continued movement…

Pettigrew is doing this on purpose, I realise as I navigate around a thicket of briars. He can tell that I'm tracking him and is trying to slow me down until he's out of the range of my charms. Hell, if I didn't have Voldemort's power to draw from, he would have lost me a long time ago. No normal third year could keep pace with him at this distance for this length of time.

Yeah, that is the big downside of revealing charms. Anyone who's detected by the spell can tell that they've been detected. They can't tell where or how far away the caster is, but they do know that there's someone out there. It's their biggest downside.

'Well that's just fucking great.'

I turn around and shine my wand's light brighter as a loud whooshing noise echoes through the trees, but my mood lifts as I identify it as my Firebolt. It smacks into my waiting hand and I waste no time mounting it and taking off.

'Now let's turn the tables on him…'

Dodging trees while flying is a pain, but I lose less time weaving around them than I do navigating obstacles on foot. Add in the fact that I no longer have to worry about terrain and it shouldn't take me more than a minute to catch up to him.

The branches are a pain, though, especially at night. I can feel several cuts on my cheeks where I smacked into them.

The trees clear out a bit up ahead, though. I can see Pettigrew, the animagus revealing charm making his form appear bright blue, even in the relative darkness. He's running along the edge of some sort of wetland. I level my wand and track him for a second, trying to predict his movements before firing.

"Homorphus!"

The spell hits him dead on, causing him to tumble through the dirt as he returns to his human form. I land and dismount from my broom, doing best to keep my wand on him the whole time.

"You almost ruined everything, you know." I tell him. "Fucking hell, you were a huge spanner in the works."

"Please, have mercy…!"

"Legilimens!"

I dive deep into Pettigrew's mind before he has a chance to fight back. It doesn't take me long to dredge up the obliviated memory and reconnect its threads. I pull back out to see him sitting there with a bewildered expression. "You…"

"Go." I say firmly. "Deliver that message. I'll tell the aurors I lost you during the chase."

He continues to stare at me, looking slightly dazed. "Why… why are you…?"

"My reasons are my own. Now go."

Pettigrew gets up and starts walking, only to shiver and collapse to his knees after a few steps. "Oh no, not this. I didn't want this. I didn't mean it!"

"What are you-" An involuntary shiver moves through me. I look up to see hundreds of dark blotches floating through the sky, each one slowly getting larger. "Fuck."

Dementors.

'Tam, take over. You're the only one who can cast a patronus.'

Right. Taking over.

Tam shifts into control of my body and focuses on the memory of her first meeting with Tessie.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silvery mist shoots out of my wand, but it flickers and dissipates after a few seconds.

Oh fuck.

'Try it again!'

"Expecto Patronum!"

A few sparks come out, but that's all.

Fuck, why isn't this working? I've done it before…

Even out of control of my body, I can feel the presence of the dementors battering against my occlumency shields. I can see them slowly descending through the trees, like they're toying with us. We need to act now, or else.

"Expecto Patronum!" Tam shouts, this time not getting any result.

Oh gods. We're going to die here. We bit off more than we can chew and now we're going to die for good, our souls eaten by these malformed abominations.

'Goddammit!'

I force my way back into control of my body, ignoring the jarring feeling of the dementors' influence strengthening as I experience it firsthand.

'Get ahold of yourself, Tam!'

Right, right. Well, have any brilliant ideas to get us out of this mess? You seem to be handling yourself well so far.

I run through a bunch of ideas. Tam got the patronus to work before when we were in Lupin's classroom, but we never got to test it against the dementor, not even a boggart simulacrum of one. Is it just harder to do with their presence constantly trying to assault your mind, dragging out the worst memories one has in a way that drowns out the happy ones? Occlumency is helping, but I can tell that it can't keep the dementor's influence perfectly, nor can it keep them out forever. It's not like having occlumency barriers helped keep Tam conscious on the train at the beginning of the year. Of course…

Oh.

Of course.

Tam doesn't work well under pressure.

Not in the sense that she can't work while stressed. It's more like… Tam does her best to prepare for a lot of contingencies, but if something unexpected happens that completely throws off her plans, she panics. She wasn't expecting Sirius to actually be innocent. She wasn't expecting Lupin to show up and ruin our chances twice — once as a human, and once as a werewolf. She sure as hell wasn't expecting to have to defend ourselves from a horde of hungry dementors because we accidentally crossed the Hogwarts wardline while chasing Pettigrew. And now she's panicking because her failure to produce a patronus is making her terrified of her own mortality.

I can't cast a patronus. I've tried with every single happy memory I have, but none were strong enough to make more than a few sparks. Tam is the only one here who can cast a patronus, which means I need to get her in the right state of mind to do so.

I just need a way to give her some kind of direct support. Something like…

'Tam, I think I know what to do. We need to do that thing we accidentally did back in the Shack, where we're both in control at once.'

Are you kidding me? The balance between our minds is already unstable enough without fucking with it deliberately!

'Well, do you have any better ideas!?'

Rrrrr… fine, but I'll make you regret it if this comes back to bite us in the arse!

I feel Tam trying to force her way into control of my body while I try to avoid being pushed out. It proves to be a much harder task in the absence of sheer rage, like trying to push the wrong poles of two magnets together. Eventually, something clicks, and everything snaps info singular focus.

It's different than before. Before, we were acting as a single entity, but now it feels like we're both singular and separate at the same time. If nothing else, it's much more existentially pleasant.

'This is odd.'

And yet, not so bad.

'Certainly bizarre, though.'

The dementors' descent halts for a moment, as if they don't know how to react to us in this state.

'Vile creatures.'

We raise our wand to ready the spell, Tam providing the memory and emotion while I provide mental stability in the face of otherwise certain doom.

'We will not die here — we are immortal and will carve out a spot for ourselves in this world by whatever means necessary.'

"'Expecto Patronum.'"

Silvery mist flows out of our wand, creating a protective dome over us, but it doesn't spread too far before it starts to dim and flicker.

'Oh dear.'

It seems we spent a little too much magic back there.

The duel with Lupin where we beat him through spell barrage, the duel with Lupin's wolf where I fought him off with alchemy, the extended pursuit through the woods… We've cast a lot of high power spells in the past hour or two, and no matter how strong our combined magical power is, it's not infinite.

'We need to make a hasty retreat. Maintain the charm. I'll take care of Pettigrew.'

Understood.

I take control of my legs and kick Pettigrew where he's kneeling. "Get up!"

He jolts from the impact. "What? What's going on?"

I internally groan. "You're getting out of here. We'll cover for you."

His head turns around, surveying the area. "But… they're everywhere."

"Transform." I say simply. "It's how Sirius managed to escape Azkaban. We'll keep their attention, and a rat is certainly beneath their notice."

He nods resolutely, transforms, and vanishes into the shadows of the trees.

The patronus shield above us flickers several more times. Deep inside us, I can feel an ache growing.

I think it's time we took our leave.

'Right.'

We make our way over to where we dropped the firebolt when we landed and prepare to take off once again. Unfortunately, the moment we prepare to mount the broom, the patronus fails.

'Oh crap.'

The dementors swarm over us like starved locusts, and for a moment, we both believe that we're about to die. As the nearest dementor pulls down its hood to reveal its scabby, malformed head, the entire clearing is filled with light. Two silver creatures leap through the field, chasing off all of the oppressive creatures. Once the area is cleared, I can get a better look at the patronuses that came to my rescue. One is a large feline, probably a lynx, and the other is a doe.

"'What?'" is all we manage to say before two figures enter the clearing — the dark-skinned auror from before and Snape. Snape's expression immediately sours once he sees me, causing the doe patronus to wink out of existence.

"Idiot boy. Did any part of your brain work during this scenario? Did you really expect to chase down a rat at night in dementor-infested woods? Did a single brain cell in that head of yours actually fire, or did quidditch instincts take over and you just decided to 'fly after the tiny thing'?"

We can recognise that Snape's being a bigger arse than usual, but the disorientation from the near-death experience and magical exhaustion is leaving us dazed. "'We had to try.'"

And we succeeded, not that any of them will appreciate the gravity of what we accomplished.

"Even with Pettigrew escaped, the little testimony we got out of him should be enough to get Sirius declared innocent." The auror says. "There was no need to risk yourself like that."

"The displays of stupidity I have witnessed from you tonight outweigh those of everything else you have done during your tenure here — combined. You should count yourself lucky to-"

The delicate balance Tam and I have been maintaining in our mind falters, and we're both ejected from control as my body loses consciousness.

When I land in my mindspace, it feels like I have the wind knocked out of me. I don't, since I don't actually have lungs here, but it feels enough like it to be extremely unpleasant.

"I hope we never have to do that again." Tam says from somewhere to my right.

"Which part?"

"All of it. Werewolves, dementors, miscarriages of justice, incompetent ministers, and fucking around with the boundary between our minds. Speaking of which, we should really tidy up. I have no idea what sort of implications this experience has for us."

"We really are in unexplored territory, huh?" I remark as I push myself upwards.

"You have no idea, Harry." Tam says as she does likewise. "I'll see you in a bit. Let's see what the tidying reveals."

I de-manifest from my mindspace and start skimming through my mind. I'm pleasantly surprised that damage seems to be very minimal. I find a lot of little things that are Tam's — mannerism and ticks and whatnot — but there are no major memories or personality effects from this.

That's… surprisingly refreshing.

As I skim through my more recent memories, I pause at the one of fighting Lupin. I watch as Black writhes in pain under the effect of the torture curse. I didn't know about the spell before, so that knowledge must have been Tam's, but still.

It felt good. It felt better than anything I've ever done before.

Does it make me a bad person if I enjoy watching others suffer?

More importantly, do I care?

Throughout the past year, I've been uncomfortable. Uncomfortable because I know that Tam isn't a good person, and yet she's so much like me. I tried so hard to be a good person once I came to Hogwarts, but maybe I never was. I was just a bad person trying to do good things. I don't think a good person would have enjoyed torture, though. I don't think a good person would have tortured at all.

Half a year ago, this information would have given me a breakdown, but now? Now I don't care.

I think back to when Tam killed Aunt Marge. I didn't care about Marge at all, yet I fought Tam about how wrong it was because it was easier than admitting I liked it and I wished I had done it myself.

Well, whatever.

I'm a bad person. I can live with that.

At least I'm not alone.

Tam and I silently exchange the small bits of personality we picked up.

Well, that wasn't too bad.

'Yeah. If you don't mind, I'm going to wake up now. I'd like to know if our foolishly chasing Pettigrew actually paid off.'

Alright. See if you can get some dreamless sleep for tonight, too. I don't have the energy to hang out in your mindspace, and I don't want to imagine the nightmares I'd have if I slept naturally.

'Yeah, I'll make sure of that.'

Forcing myself awake from unconsciousness is much harder than forcing myself awake from sleep. It's like swimming upwards through toffee. Fortunately, I lost consciousness due to magical exhaustion, not a stunning spell or anything like that. Tam has told me that it's impossible to force oneself awake from a stunning spell, and I'm not sure I want to know how she found that out.

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the deep, pervasive ache through my entire being. My entire body hurts, but this goes deeper than that, like an ache in my sense of self. I haven't felt this bad since I woke up after killing Quirrell.

There are voices speaking, though I can't make out who they are or what's being said for a few moments. Eventually, I can identify them as Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.

"-cannot believe this, Dumbledore! This is the seventeenth incident where one of the students has had a close call with a dementor!"

"Cornelius has already given the order for them to withdraw, due to Sirius Black's arrest and upcoming trial. Much as I'd love to drag him over the coals for this recklessness, it would be a waste of political capital to do so."

"Pity, I could really go for some smoked Fudge right now." Pomfrey says.

I laugh. It aches to do so, but I can't help it.

"Ah, I see you're already awake, Mister Potter." Dumbledore says as he walks over to my bed. "I hear that you've had an interesting night."

"You could say that. How long was I out?"

"Not more than an hour." Pomfrey says. "Here, eat some chocolate. It won't help with the exhaustion, it will curb lingering effects of dementor exposure."

I take the offered chocolate and bite into it. "May I have some dreamless sleep, too? I'd rather not deal with nightmares."

"Yes, yes, let me go fetch some." She says before going to the medical cupboard in the next room, leaving me alone with Dumbledore.

I take a few more bites of the chocolate before Dumbledore speaks up.

"That was a very reckless thing you did, Harry." Dumbledore says plainly.

"Was it worth it, though?" I ask. "Did they catch Pettigrew?"

"Unfortunately, your efforts were in vain. By the time Kinglsey and Severus had ensured you were safe, Pettigrew was long gone. While Sirius is still very likely to be declared innocent, it pains me to know that the one who framed him for so many years has escaped justice yet again."

I ignore Dumbledore's spiel. I did everything I hoped to get done. This could not have gone better for me.

"As I was saying, that was a very reckless thing you did, Harry. Reckless, foolish, and perhaps even brave. You are a merit to your house."

I feel Tam twinge in irritation, but I just put on my best smile. "I just did what I had to do, Professor."

"Indeed. Well, I see Poppy making her way over here, so I'll leave you to your rest for the time being. Goodnight, Mister Potter."

Madam Pomfrey comes around the corner just as Dumbledore leaves. She deposits the small phial of dark grey solution on my bedside table before bustling off again. I pop the cork off of it and am about to down it when Tam pipes up.

Before we go to sleep, I just wanted to say… thanks.

'What?'

I mean it. I couldn't have done any of this without your help. You kept your composure even in the face of certain doom. We both would have died — or worse — if you didn't have that absurd idea to get me in the right state of mind to cast the patronus. You've put up with me all year, going above and beyond what you had to do to fulfill your end of our bargain. So… thank you. For everything.

'I just did what I had to do.'

I feel a small trickle of amusement coming from Tam at my repetition of the line I just gave to Dumbledore.

I've never had any people I could call friends before, but I can see myself calling you my first.

'I… thanks, Tam. That means a lot. While I do have others I can call friends, you've been a far better one than they have.'

It had better mean a lot! I don't see anyone else earning that title anytime soon.

I laugh out loud.

'Goodnight, Tam.'

Goodnight, Harry.

I down the potion and relax as I fall into a dreamless sleep.

I'm sure that whatever comes next, we can handle it.

A/N (Tendra): I won't lie: I had so much fun fucking around with the format in this, especially during the scenes where Harry and Tam "fuse".

So, this chapter does wrap up the year three plot. Next up is an interlude chapter, then the story will pick up again during the year 4 summer.

It took about 130k words, but we're finally at the part of the slowburn where Harry and Tam are firmly in the "friends" category. For those of you who want romance, don't worry! We'll get there… eventually.

It was adorable writing them in their casual interactions in this chapter. Tam is a complete sociopath, and Harry is the only person she's ever met whom she thinks of as being an actual person.

They're both such terrible people. It's so adorable.

Feel free to join my discord at 6YwQewK. Or don't. It's up to you.

E/N (Xgenje): For the people on the discord, 'It's is' was a legitimate error in this chapter that I kept putting back in when Ten wasn't looking.

On a more serious note, this chapter is by far one of the most unique renditions of this plot archetype that I have ever seen. I actually had to reread several sections because I forgot to check for errors because I got distracted reading.

E/N (Foadar): Not the conclusion I was expecting, but satisfying nevertheless. I think this is way too early for anyone to consider romance, but what should have you excited is Harry and Tam post Hogwarts. A necessary change in environment, I think. Comment if you thought Lupin was gonna die as well. I certainly did.

Cheers, Foadar