A/N: Guess what, everyone? In three hours, it will be two very special people's birthday: Harry Potter's, and the mastermind who brought him to our bookshelves, J.K. Rowling. I, for one, am forever grateful to J.K.R. She has given me an outlet for my creative energy, and has given me a place to escape to when I get frustrated or bored with this one. She is amazing, and I'm sure all you other Harry Potter fans will agree.

So, Happy Birthday, J.K. Rowling. And thanks. For everything.

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Chapter 8

The Next Step

With a heavy sigh, Sirius made his way to the Shrieking Shack. Though it was supposed to be the most haunted dwelling in Britain, Sirius wasn't afraid. It had been Remus in his werewolf form that made all the frightening howls and screeches. The rain had subsided, but left Sirius shivering and wet. Looking around cautiously, Sirius went around to the back of the large house. He broke inside, using the password that Dumbledore had set for the house ages and ages ago, and stared at the place.

Dust covered everything in a thick blanket. This domicile had stood undisturbed for about 27 years, and it looked it too. Sirius sighed again and closed the door behind him. Sirius didn't bother trying to find a comfortable place to sleep; he honestly didn't care. He sat down beneath one of the boarded up windows, in hopes of getting some fresh air from outside. Closing his eyes, he went to sleep.

The days passed by slowly, and Sirius tried to find ways to entertain himself. Pretending to be a loveable stray, he entered Hogsmeade to eat out of trashcans, and sometimes receive a pitying pat from passersby. If he was lucky, and hung around long enough, the compassionate Madam Rosemerta would bring him customers' leftovers, which he would eat thankfully.

But as mid-October came around, Sirius began to form a plan to catch Peter. He knew that on Halloween night all the students at Hogwarts would be down eating the feast, meaning that the house dormitories would be empty. If he were lucky, the red-haired boy would leave Peter in his dormitory. Then Sirius would make his move, and bring Peter to Dumbledore, and his name would be cleared. There was even a passage to the Whomping Willow here in the Shrieking Shack that had been made for Remus as well.

All he had to do was find out what house Arthur's son was in, and he was home free.

But as Halloween drew nearer, Sirius was starting to worry that he wouldn't find out the house in time, so he decided that he would just have to check all the houses until he found the right one. He was determined not to miss this chance.

But on Halloween morning, Sirius got more than lucky.

The Hogwarts third-years and up were allowed into Hogsmeade, and Sirius enjoyed watching them laughing and playing in the streets. But Sirius didn't see Harry anywhere, which he thought was rather odd. Sirius went back to the Shrieking Shack, hoping to get a small nap in before his big night. But when he heard Harry's name mentioned, his ears perked right up.

"It's too bad we had to leave Harry all alone…" Peeping out through the boards of the window, Sirius recognized the boy instantly as Arthur's son—the one on whose shoulder Peter had been sitting on.

"He'll be all right. He'll like the candy we got him." A girl with incredibly bushy hair said. They were standing side by side, looking up at the Shrieking Shack. "This place is certainly fascinating…"

"Yeah, I guess." The boy shrugged, turning to lean against the fence.

"Ron, you don't have to feel guilty that we're at Hogsmeade and Harry isn't." The girl said plainly.

"Yeah, I know." Ron shrugged again.

"Do you want to go back to Gryffindor tower?" The girl suggested.

"No, that's all right, Hermione. Let's go get something to drink at the Three Broomsticks."

Gryffindor tower. Harry, Ron, and this girl, Hermione, were all in Gryffindor. Peter was in Gryffindor. This couldn't have worked out any better—Sirius knew Gryffindor like the back of his hand, for he too had been in Gryffindor with James, Lily, Remus, Belle, and Peter.

Now all he needed was the password to the common room… but surely the Fat Lady would remember him and let him in?

But of course, she only knew him as a murderer.

"Please! You have to let me in!" Sirius shouted at the portrait. "I have to get in there NOW!"

"You are mad, Sir Black!" The Fat Lady replied dignifiedly. "You don't have the password."

"LET ME IN!" Sirius shouted again. He pulled out a rusty knife that he had found in a trashcan in Hogsmeade. "I don't want to have to do this…"

The Fat Lady shrieked, "I won't!"

"HAVE IT YOUR WAY!" Sirius yelled. He took the knife and started to slash at the picture angrily. The Fat Lady screamed again, and ran out of the picture. This was his chance, and now it was lost—and all because this damn picture wouldn't let him inside.

"Tisk-tisk, Mr. Black!"

Sirius whipped around to see Peeves the poltergeist bouncing in the air with his arms crossed and an intrigued expression on his face.

"Peeves—I've got to get in here…" Sirius tried to explain breathlessly.

"Ickle-Sirius has a temper!" Peeves laughed. "Going to get in oodles of trouble…"

"Peeves—no! You can't!" Sirius cried, but instead of wasting his time with Peeves, he sprinted back down the hall instead. When he was sure that he was out of sight of everyone, he transformed back into a dog mid-run, and continued to sprint towards the Willow. Not bothering to find a stick to touch the knot, he dodged the flying branches and went through the long dirt passage.

The night had been a complete failure. What was he going to do now? Surely Peeves would tell Dumbledore who had ruined the Fat Lady's picture. Why hadn't he controlled his temper? Then Dumbledore wouldn't be on guard for him… but Dumbledore knew that he wasn't a murderer, so maybe he wouldn't care if Sirius broke into the castle every once and awhile?

But the student's parents would care. So Sirius was still in the same place he was before. Trapped, with nowhere to turn to.

Bored out of his mind, Sirius watched November come with terrible weather. He was running out of things to do, and he wondered how real dogs could stand being dogs day in and day out on dreary and mind-numbing rainy days like these…

The Shrieking Shack wasn't the most comfortable place in the rain. Little water droplets leaked in through the tattered roof, and left wet puddles on the floor, which mixed with the dust, which was just gross.

Finally, bored stiff, he decided that he wanted to try to break into Hogwarts again. Maybe he would get lucky and he could sneak in after some kid, and he could find Peter and turn him in. He wasn't stupid enough to think that his plan, which relied so much on chance, would actually work… but he was so tired of sitting in the Shack and doing nothing that this seemed to be worth the risks of getting caught.

So, he headed down the dirty passageway happily. Still in his dog form, Sirius wasn't worried about the dementors finding him, though he could sense their cold, eerie presence from the moment that he stepped out from the Whomping Willow.

Heading towards the castle, Sirius saw something ginger-colored sitting on the front step, as lightening flashed overhead. Sirius blinked the pouring rain out of his eyes and approached it, sniffing. It was a cat—it meowed at him suspiciously, but Sirius didn't dare bark back, for the dementors were just down the drive. Suddenly, Sirius heard a loud cheer coming from the Quidditch pitch. The cat meowed again, as if to say, "Follow me." Sirius trotted after the bottlebrush-tailed cat, curiously.

Why did this cat seem to trust him? The cat seemed agitated to be out in the pouring rain, but it seemed as though it had been waiting for Sirius there on the steps, and it wasn't about to leave, which made Sirius even more confused.

Soon, the Quidditch pitch came into view. Sirius could hear commentary being shouted through a magical mega-phone. Sirius barked softly at the cat, and it turned to look at him. The look it its pug-like face seemed to respond, "I'm taking you there… he's playing."

"Who's playing?" Sirius looked at the cat with puzzlement.

"Harry."

"You're kidding!"

"Go up to the top box… no one's up there."

"Thank you… thank you!" Sirius bounded towards the steps that led to the top box with uncontainable excitement. When he reached the box, he sat up in the top-most row, and stared up into the rain-filled sky, searching for Harry. He could pick him out easily—he flew with even more talent that James. Harry went to turn back to the middle of the field, and there was a huge crash of lightening. Harry and Sirius's eyes met for a fraction of an instant, and Harry looked mystified, and his broom continued to fly straight, but his head was still craning to look at Sirius.

But a loud silence fell over the stands, and Sirius's eyes left Harry to look down. Dementors were entering the stadium. Shit. They knew that Sirius was here—they were looking for him. Sirius's heart started to pound, and he wondered if it would be safer to stay put, or run for the Willow.

"Look at Potter!" A boy from a box below shouted, pointing into the air. Sirius looked up, as some students started to scream. Harry was falling from the sky like a bomb, pelting straight for the ground. Harry's broom flew through the sky away from the pitch. Harry was plummeting too fast—much, much too fast. Sirius stopped breathing, as time seemed to slow—he had to save Harry…

But Dumbledore was far ahead of him. He was marching onto the Quidditch pitch, his whole essence fuming with anger. He waved his wand at Harry, who's fall slowed and he rested on ground lightly. Then Dumbledore turned to the dementors, and produced one of the strongest patronuses Sirius had ever seen. The silver phoenix charged at the dementors, causing them to scatter back to their posts. Dumbledore then turned back to Harry, and magicked a stretcher, and Harry floated onto it. Dumbledore then marched to the castle without saying a word.

Now that Sirius was sure that Harry was safe, Sirius bounded out of the stadium, angry with himself for even momentarily thinking that the dementors were too dumb to catch him. He wondered for a second if the cat had gone for the dementors… but he pushed that thought aside. It didn't matter who called them.

Sirius considered going into the hospital wing, just to be positive that Harry would be all right after his fall. But when he glanced at the Hogwarts front gates and he saw the dementors floating back to their positions, Sirius knew he had pushed the boundaries too far today.

He made his way back to the Whomping Willow, but he saw the cat waiting for him.

"What do you want?" Sirius scowled.

"Did you see him?"

"Yeah. And the dementors came for me. You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?" Sirius frowned. The cat looked at him, and seemed to be offended.

"Why would I do that, Sirius?"

"Wha—how do you…?"

"I figured it out. I'm Part-Kneazle. I'm good at these things. Name's Crookshanks." The cat scampered through the dangerous branches of the Willow, and touched the knot for Sirius. "Now get out of here. I'll come to you when it's safe to come back to Hogwarts."

"You know what I'm looking for?"

"Of course… that rat that isn't a rat. Peter, isn't it? I've been trying to catch him for weeks."

Sirius barked happily, and headed for the hole at the base of the Whomping Willow. He turned to woof a thank you to Crookshanks, but he had left. Instead, something else caught his eye. There, at the base of the tree, were the remains of Harry's broomstick.

"I hope we can find it…" Three red-haired boys were making their way towards the tree. Sirius recognized one of the boys as Ron, Harry's friend and the owner of Peter. Sirius glanced at the shredded broom, and grabbed it in his mouth. He quickly brought it out of reach of the trees dangerous branches, before disappearing in the hole before the boys could see him.