Lupin returned the next day. Aziraphale first saw him at breakfast. It was clear he had been ill, his face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes, but he smiled cheerfully as he took his place at the head table. Aziraphale couldn't bring himself to smile back.

Crowley gave Lupin exactly twelve hours to settle back into school life after Aziraphale saw him at breakfast, then he went down to his classroom. Lupin sat at the desk, hunched over a stack of papers, his forehead creased in concentration.

"Professor Crowley," he said as Crowley stalked in, "can I help you?"

"Yes," Crowley had been waiting long enough, he didn't want to beat around the bush this time, "I need to ask you about Sirius Black."

Lupin went white, then composed himself.

"I have already spoken to Dumbledore on this matter," he said calmly.

"Well, I'm on an errand for Dumbledore."

"What do you mean?" Lupin fingered the quill still in his hand nervously.

"He has asked me, and Professor Fell, to hunt down Sirius Black," Crowley explained, trying to sound friendly, as Lupin did not look in the mood to talk, "so we need to find out stuff about him," he paused, realising he hadn't thought this through, "and we thought…we thought that-"

"Since I was friends with him when we were younger, I helped him escape from Azkaban," Lupin snapped.

He didn't sound at all like the Lupin that Crowley had heard chatting away about magical creatures or helping out troubled first years. He sounded harsh, angry. A person who has been beaten down by the world too many times. Crowley backtracked quickly.

"No," he said, his voice calm, "but we thought you might have an idea as to how-"

"I do not," Lupin glared across the desk, "and, as I said, I have already spoken to Dumbledore about this. After…other accusations."

Crowley gritted his teeth. Snape. He would have bet his life on it. Snape had almost certainly tried to get Lupin kicked out, by telling people about his friendship with Black. Dumbledore probably would have been obliged to interrogate Lupin, to appease parents or other teachers.

"That's not what I mean," he pressed on, trying to explain, "we just need your help. We trust you," he finished, his voice softer.

"Well, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do," Lupin said curtly, "now, if you'll excuse me, I've lots of work to do."

Crowley left. Something in Lupin's eyes made him feel wary. He was like a cornered wolf; one who had fought too many battles already and didn't need another. Crowley hadn't addressed the situation well, and the investigation was going to suffer from his lack of tact. He should have asked Aziraphale to go.

He was not in a good mood when he arrived back at their rooms later that night, after strolling the castle for some time, thinking. A million different ways to take the conversation opened up in his mind, other than the one he had taken. They had lost possible essential information and now they would have to waste precious time regaining Lupin's trust. Perhaps it had been too early. Perhaps Aziraphale had been right. Crowley certainly wasn't looking forward to admitting that.

Aziraphale knew what had happened the minute he saw Crowley's face. Crowley was grateful that he didn't say 'I told you so', but he supposed it was just his angelic way. He slumped into an armchair opposite his friend.

"So," Aziraphale began tentatively, "what shall we do now?"

"We need to try again," Crowley said, staring pensively into the fire, "I'm certain he knows something that could help us. The way he spoke in there, I know he's could be hiding something."

Aziraphale nodded slowly. Crowley knew when people were lying, and he had to agree Lupin was hiding something, though he didn't know what. It was obvious that Crowley felt he should try, that he would handle things better. But there was something he needed to find out first. Muttering something about going to visit Hagrid, he got up and left the room.

…

The next day was the day of the first Quidditch match of the season, and for the first time, Aziraphale hadn't come to watch Harry play. He was not around when Crowley woke up, and as far as he knew, he hadn't come back last night either. Crowley trudged to the Quidditch pitch alone, sheltering under a large umbrella as rain was coming down in sheets. It did not seem like good conditions for a Quidditch match and Crowley wondered why they didn't just reschedule. Then again, that wasn't really the Hogwarts way.

He sat down near the commentator's box, in order to be able to hear Lee Jordan. It was the only way to tell what was going on. Despite the fact that the pitch couldn't be seen through the driving rain, there was still an impressive turn out for the match. Crowley couldn't see Aziraphale in the crowd. He wondered if the angel was angry with him or had just made a breakthrough. He hoped it was the latter.

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff players began to take their places on the pitch. Crowley could just about see Harry at the back of his teammates. The match began, the players shooting into the air like cannonballs, and then immediately becoming invisible in the driving rain. Crowley strained his eyes, trying to see, but even with his superior demonic vision he couldn't see anything more than blurred shapes zooming across the pitch. It wasn't easy to hear the commentary either, thanks to the wind, and Crowley wasn't sure what there was to commentate. The rain is even stronger now. It didn't seem possible, but it is. It had to be far worse for the players.

After what seemed like hours of squinting into the downpour, a whistle blew, and the two teams sped to earth. Crowley, believing the match was over, began to stand, but sat down quickly as Lee Jordan's voice reached him from the commentator's box.

"And the Gryffindor team have called a time out. Tough conditions are starting to make things complicated."

Crowley could see the scarlet blurs of the Gryffindors huddled in corner of the pitch. He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked around. It was Hermione.

"Professor," she had to shout to make herself heard, "I wondered if you knew a spell which would clear Harry's glasses. I don't think he can see very well."

Crowley mentally kicked himself, then gave her a few spells. A minute later she was running down the pitch toward the Gryffindor huddle. Crowley sat back and waited for the game to begin again.

…

Meanwhile Aziraphale approached Lupin's office warily. He knew that Lupin had a lot of work, due to his illness. He wouldn't be at the match. Coming to the door, he knocked, and Lupin answered.

"Professor Fell," he said, blocking Aziraphale's entrance, "this really isn't a good time."

…

Cedric Diggory was racing down the pitch. He had seen the snitch. Crowley found himself standing up in the stands, gazing at the racing figure of Cedric, and just behind him, Harry. Blurred in the rain, the two of them looked like a tongue of flame, shooting through the air.

…

"I know Lupin," Aziraphale said gently, "and I still trust you."

Lupin looked like a cornered rabbit, "How did you find out?"

"Honestly, I asked Hagrid. I wanted to know what you were hiding. But I'm not planning to tell anyone," Aziraphale said quickly, "in fact, I don't understand why you didn't tell us yourself. Several other teachers know."

"Only the ones who were part of the Order," Lupin's didn't sound angry, which was a relief, "the ones Dumbledore trusted most. And it took them a long time to trust me. Nobody is going to trust a werewolf in a hurry. That was what made James and Sirius and Peter…that was what made them so special."

"I understand, I really do," Aziraphale said, thinking about Crowley. About trusting a demon. This was nothing in comparison, "but I don't care if you're a werewolf. I believe that you will tell me the truth about Black. For Harry's sake."

At last, Lupin moved and let Aziraphale into the office.

…

Suddenly Crowley felt cold. The sensation was almost familiar now, but not to the crowd. All eyes left the racing Cedric, and Harry, who had slowed, and was coming to a stop. Above the pitch, a cloud of dementors floated ominously, approaching the stadium. All the teachers shot up; Crowley included. But what could he do, without a Patronus?

…

"He's a what?"

Lupin looked at his lap, ashamed.

"An Animagus. I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone but…" he trailed off.

Aziraphale suddenly knew the answer to his next question, but he asked it anyway.

"And what form does he take?"

Lupin looked confused.

"A dog," he said, "a big black dog."

…

A white phoenix flew upward, scattering the dementors. But it was too late. A scream pieced the air. Harry was falling. Crowley's eyes snapped into focus on the boy, the rain seeming to disappear around him. he didn't bother raising his wand for show.

Harry's descent slowed, and he hovered over the pitch, safe. The phoenix had done it's work in the sky above. The rain seemed to speed up again, and Crowley slide on the wooden stands as he ran toward the red figure in the centre of the Quidditch pitch.

…

Lupin's face was hard to read, he seemed shocked, horrified, but also excited. Maybe, like Aziraphale, he thought that his friend might be innocent, and was looking forward to seeing him.

"So you're telling me that Sirius has been wandering around the grounds all term."

"And he hasn't hurt anyone," Aziraphale finished, "he must be innocent."

"But what about Halloween?"

"I suppose we'll have to find that out in person."

…

It was Dumbledore who escorted the unconscious Harry to the hospital wing on the stretcher. McGonagall and Snape took charge of the students, while Flitwick and Sprout hurried after Harry's broomstick, as Sprout didn't want it to harm the whomping willow. Crowley thought that it was much more likely to be the other way around.

He was left to help McGonagall, as she shepherded the spectators back to the castle. The Gryffindor team were the last to go in, Oliver Wood looking as if the world was crashing down around him. Crowley couldn't believe a match like that, with a dementor attack halfway through and possibly the worst weather imaginable, could count, but apparently it did.

He let the Gryffindor team (except Wood, who disappeared after entering the school), Ron and Hermione go up to the hospital wing, thinking Harry would appreciate the company when he woke up. Then he went to find Aziraphale.

…

It took the whole trip from Lupin's office to the hospital wing (as Aziraphale was extremely anxious about Harry) for Crowley to fill Aziraphale in, and the whole trip back (as Crowley wanted to speak to Lupin as well, mostly to apologise) for Aziraphale to update Crowley. When they had finished, and were sitting in Lupin's office at last, they began to discuss their next move.

"So how exactly are we going to speak to Black?" Crowley asked, "I'm assuming you two have a plan."

"Not quite," Lupin said, "we are hoping that he will come and talk to us."

"But first we have to get the message across," Aziraphale explained, "so that's what we need to work out."

And the angel, the demon and the werewolf started to discuss ways to ask a possibly innocent escaped convict, currently masquerading as a large black dog, to meet them in the Hogwarts grounds to talk.

I am super excited about this chapter, hopefully you like the way I wrote it. I felt the writing was becoming a bit repetitive, so I thought I'd switch things up. Anyway, thanks for reading, and please feel free to leave a review