Frisk hurried through the halls as fast as she could, which wasn't as fast as she would have liked, as she was carrying a large smoking goblet filled with liquid she really didn't want to spill. She encountered not so much as a ghost on her way down. Even the great hall had emptied out.
The late spring air was warm, and the breeze would have made the night extremely pleasant to be out in, but the sounds of animals settling in the trees did nothing to calm Frisk's nerves.
The sun had already mostly set, and the moon would be up soon.
Once out in the grounds, Frisk was forced to spend precious time where she'd seen the tunnel Lupin's dot was in. It was past the groundskeeper's hut, and had even been around the lake, in an area of the grounds Frisk hadn't actually ever been to.
She stuffed the map back into her pocket, and intoned "Lumos!". With her lighted wand in one hand, and goblet in the other, Frisk jogged in the direction the map had pointed her, taking the shorter way past the lake. There might have been people that could have helped her in Hagrid's hut, but it would have taken too much time. "Where is it?" she wondered aloud. The she saw the large willow tree. The tunnel must have been hidden under the tree!
Something about the tree was bothering her. It wasn't moving at all. Not even the smallest branches and twigs were swaying in the breeze. Frisk gamely moved up to the tree, pointing her wandlight at the trunk, searching for the hole that must be there.
Thwack! A large branch of the previously motionless tree caught Frisk completely by surprise. It struck her directly across the chest. She stumbled backwards, barely hanging onto her wand, and spilling drops of precious liquid, but managing to keep her balance, barely.
She looked up in alarm. The tree had pulled its branch back for another swing, and now it was swaying violently, to and fro, ready to take vengeance on the first year student that dared approach it. With a shout of alarm, Frisk ducked under the branch, and had to dodge two additional longer limbs before she was safely out of tree's range.
She stared up at the tree that had been so motionless just a few seconds ago. "What happened?" she asked nobody in particular. If Frisk was hoping for an answer, she was disappointed. The willow continued to wave its arms threateningly, daring Frisk to get closer, to try again.
"Please!" she begged the tree. "I need to get this potion to Professor Lupin!" But the tree took a taunting, gratuitous swipe at her. She paced around the tree, searching for some sort of weak spot. After a several minutes of looking, as quickly as it animated, the tree froze again.
Frisk stared, unsure what to make of this. Was it another trick or was it... wait. Was that a... was that a cat? "Crookshanks?" she asked aloud. The large cat moseyed over to Frisk, its bottle-brush tail held high and proud, rubbing against her legs. And as Frisk goggled, seven more people climbed out of the hole.
First was Professor Lupin and Ronald Weasley. Between them, chained at the arms, was a short balding man with greasy appearance and shrunken eyes. Who this could possibly be, Frisk hadn't the faintest idea. After them emerged a very unconscious, floating, Professor Snape, his head bumping against a tree root. Then came someone she'd seen only on wanted posters.
"Sirius Black," she said, thunderstruck. Why wasn't he the one in chains? She fumbled her wand. What spells did she know that could defend herself against a murderer?
"Who's that?" asked Sirius, his voice was throaty and cracking from what might have been disuse. Harry and Hermione climbed out of the tree's stump. Crookshanks walked back toward the tree, pawing at spot near the bottom.
"Frisk Dreemurr?" Professor Lupin asked, staring at her in as much shock as she felt. "What could you possibly be doing here?"
"I was going to meet you outside your office," Frisk said, her voice shaking. "But you weren't there, and Snape brought your potion and..." and that got her brain moving again. "Your potion!" Sirius Black, and dangerous tree, momentarily forgotten, she raced towards Lupin, goblet extended in her hand.
"You came out at night, looking for someone who very possibly could be a raging werewolf, to try to make sure I don't harm anyone?" Lupin asked, amazed. "Frisk, you really are something else. I am in your debt." He took the goblet and downed the contents in two deep swallows. "I only hope it works. That potion's really only effective when it's fresh." He made a face. "Still disgusting... but I guess you're wondering what's going on here."
"You should take a look inside," Hermione said, suddenly. "You're a lot better at that than I am. I want to know what it looks like inside."
"What?" Harry asked, "Oh! That's a good idea."
Ron tightened his grip on the small, quivering man.
"Okay?" Frisk said, and she focused. All around the willow, colored lights blinked into existence. But the only two that Frisk paid attention to was the deep mixture of black and yellow of Sirius's soul, and the bright liquid-medicine pink of the soul of the prisoner.
"You've never mentioned pink... or black," Hermione said.
"I've... I've never heard of pink," Frisk said, staring. "I'd have to ask Alphys. But black, I thought black was LOVE... the level of violence. Something that showed that you'd killed someone else. What's going on?" Frisk demanded.
"We need to go," Sirius declared as Hermione appeared thoughtful. "The dementors are still patrolling, and your little light show isn't hard to notice. If you still don't trust me, Harry, I'll take a truth serum. I'll prove it to you. I want nothing more to prove my innocence."
"Over here, Frisk," Hermione said. As they walked, Hermione filled her in quickly, about the shackled man was the person, Peter Petigrew, that Black had been accused of killing. And how Snape had hated Black for a schoolyard prank that nearly got Snape killed.
Then the clouds parted, and they caught a glimpse of the moon. The beautiful, full moon, that had just crept over the horizon. Lupin froze, caught by the moon's glow. Sirius threw out his arm to catch Frisk, Harry, and Hermione.
"Did it work?" Hermione asked breathlessly. "The potion... is he safe?"
At that moment, many things happened at once. Lupin began his transformation into a werewolf. Sirius Black disappeared, apparently transformed into a large black dog. The captured man had also made a move, diving for Lupin's dropped wand, pulling Ron with him.
"No!" shouted Harry, "Expelliarmus!" he said, pointing at the chained man. But it was too late. The man was undergoing his own transformation, shrinking smaller and smaller, until he was a small, pet sized, rat. The rat stared back up at them for just a second before skittering off into the brush.
Frisk stared. Was that, of all things, Scabbers? She had her attention forcibly taken by the growling of dog versus very large werewolf. The werewolf was on the losing end of the fight. When the dog had its attention distracted by Harry's shout, the wolf wrenched itself free and fled toward the forest.
Separated from the threat of the werewolf, the dog looked at the empty manacles. With a snarl, it looked around for the fleeing rat, then barreled off, nose to the ground.
"What did he do to him?" Harry said. He and Hermione were kneeling over their friend Ron, now lying motionless on the ground. "He's alive, he's still breathing."
Frisk, finally with her bearings back, hurried next to them, gripping her wand. "Lumostos," she said, holding her wand over Ron's arm. The bonelight spell illuminated the damage, it looked like Ron's arm bone had been completely pulled out of the socket.
"You learned that from Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked, to Frisk's quick nod. "I think that's relatively easy to fix, even for muggles... you just have to push it back in."
"We better get him back up to the castle," began Harry, but then they were interrupted by the sound of a dog howling in pain.
"Sirius," Harry said, alarmed. He looked indecisive for a moment, then charged off in the direction of the howl.
Hermione and Frisk looked at each other, and took off after him. But as they got close to the lake, Frisk could feel the air growing cold. And there was Harry, standing over Sirius, human again. Sirius had his face buried to the ground, whimpering like a frightened puppy. Frisk and Hermione arrived, just in time for the dementors, hundreds of them, to close the circle around them.
"Expecto Patronum!" Harry chanted. But nothing happened. "Frisk, Hermione, help me! You... you have to focus on something happy!"
Hermione tottered and collapsed to her knees beside Frisk.
Something happy? Every happy thought that came to Frisk's mind vanished within an instant of it arriving. The dementors were getting closer and... did they recognize her? Why? Their quarry was right there, on the sands. They'd split up.. some approaching Harry, some approaching Frisk.
She could feel her wand growing warm in her hand, and saw a red beam of concentrated firelight burst from it, striking one of them. That one fell back, giving what must have been a cry of pain.
One of the other dementors glided towards her, grabbing her tightly at the wrist with a cold, dead hand, squeezing it until the wand dropped. She could feel its cold, dead breath. One directly in front of her seemed to consider her, and gave a very human like nod of acknowledgment. Then it raised both hands, and lowered its hood.
Some people thought skeletons looked creepy. Those people had never seen what was beneath a dementor's hood. Where eyes should have been, there were only thin strips of skin. And there was no mouth, only a thin hole. Papyrus was capable of showing a wide range of emotions, and Sans never stopped smiling... but dementors could never have smiled. It lowered its head and prepared to kiss.
NO! You have to stay determined! For Asriel! Please!
Frisk wrenched her hands free and head clear. She held onto the thought that was still burning into her mind. Over to her side, she could see another dementor ready to kiss Harry. Her wand, she had to find her wand. She had no idea what she could do, but any hope had to start with her wand.
Through the gloom, a silver light burst from somewhere nearby. A large, silvery, deer. A stag, with antlers throwing dementors left and right, the others fleeing before it. And it was warm, a comforting warmth like a fireplace on a winter's day. It circled around the four of them, and then headed back across the lake. Frisk strained to see where it was going, but it went out of her field of vision.
Frisk was woozy, but that was better than anyone else was doing. She, alone of Harry, Hermione, or Sirius stood. What was she supposed to now? She found her wand, a few inches away. She lit her wand, nudging the other students. "C'mon, Harry... Hermione. I need help!" If only she knew of some way of signaling to someone, anyone, that she was here. And Ron... what if he was attacked?
That's when she heard footsteps, someone was coming towards her. It was... "Professor Snape," she said, gratefully. Behind him she could see Ron, lying flatly on a floating stretcher
Professor Snape glanced at her, gave a start of surprise, then turned to Black. "It is time to end this. I don't know where the dementors went, but I don't care. I will simply do it myself," he raised his wand, pointing it at Black's chest.
"You can't!" Frisk cried, stepping between her potions master and his victim. "Executing someone like that does damage to your soul!"
"Out of the way," Snape said, "Please." His voice was flat, almost monotone. His eyes gleamed in a way that Frisk had never seen before, not in anyone.
"No," Frisk said. "I won't. You're a better person that Snape. This isn't worth something that happened a dozen years ago."
"Me?" Snape cried out, his voice was desperate and high pitched. She'd never heard him sound like this. "You, of all people should know this isn't about me! This is about his betrayal. He murdered you. Don't you remember?"
Had she gone back... and not remembered it? No, there wasn't a chance of that. "No... professor... how could he have killed me? I'm right here."
"He sold you out to the dark lord. I want to be able to finally, kill the person who got the only person I ever cared about murdered." His stare, that seemed to go right through Frisk, told her one thing. She wasn't sure who Professor Snape thought he was talking to... but he wasn't talking to Frisk.
"No, Snape. He didn't murder me! I'm standing right here. I'm in your way because I know you could be better than this! You don't have to kill him. You don't have to kill anyone for me."
"Lily Evans. Wasn't it him? Wasn't it Sirius Black, that idiot James's best friend, who gave your secret to the dark lord? Tell me the truth! It was Sirius, wasn't it?" Snape's voice was anguished and full of pain. "Or was Harry Potter telling the truth?"
Was it? Harry had been convinced it was, but Frisk didn't know what had gone on in the tunnel under the willow. How could she... and the thoughts bubbled at her:
The rat man... he was called a spy... had come to us. We called for the dark lord on his behalf. Why do you disturb me? The dark lord asked him. Because I can give you the Potters. He was rewarded with the Dark Mark itself...
"How..." Frisk began to whisper under her breath...
"Was Harry Potter telling the truth?" Snape demanded again, in the same anguished voice. "Was it Petigrew, this whole time?"
"Yes," Frisk replied. "Peter, who escaped by transforming into a rat."
Snape, completely uncharacteristically, fell to his knees, sobbing into the sleeve of his robe. "Lily... I've failed you again. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Make it up to her. We need to get inside, away from the dementors."
"Right," Snape said, regaining his composure almost as quickly as he had lost it. He looked around at the unconscious bodies around him. Wordlessly, he called forth three more floating stretchers, and levitated the other unconscious people onto them. He then turned and headed back up to the castle. Frisk hurried to keep up.
They said nothing as they walked. Snape was lost in some deep thought, and Frisk was again trying to draw out those other thoughts that spontaneously appeared in her mind.
Which meant neither of them noticed that the air had grown cold as the dementors came back for a second round.
Frisk screamed in pain and terror as she was attacked from behind, grabbed by her wrists, forced to drop her wand, again. She struggled fruitlessly, as she was pulled back the way she came.
Snape whirled around, his wand in his hand and pointing in the time it takes for the heart to beat. "You will not take her from me again! Expecto Patronum!" Another white burst of light flooded Frisk's vision. But it was no stag this time, but a doe, just as bright, just as warm, that thundered through the pack of dementors, sending them scattering.
"Did you know?" Snape asked Frisk conversationally, as Frisk swayed on her feet. "It's always the same moment. When you defended me against James and Sirius. I didn't think any Gryffindor would break ranks like that. Like the Dreemurr girl did for young Marsh. I wish you were still here, Lily... you would have liked her."
Frisk was dimly aware of what he said, but the second dementor attack had been too much. She slumped down, too drained to move any more.
"Lily?" Snape asked, rushing to Frisk's side, "Lily!" he screamed.
The last thing she remembered were voices, among them the headmaster's, racing towards them from the castle doors.
She woke up in the familiar environs of the hospital wing. She was lying on a bed, so were Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Madam Pomfrey was bending over Ron, tending to his wounds. She could see three other people through the open door. The Headmaster, and Professor Snape, but the third person, Frisk didn't recognize.
"I'm telling you, Snape, this will earn you the Order of Merlin, second class. First class if I can manage it."
"And I am telling you," Snape said in his normal cold voice. "I am not interested. You should take your time and get it right. If Black isn't the culprit you think he is..."
The officious looking person favored Snape with a sympathetic smile. "You're still not feeling well, are you? We heard you calling for Lily Evans at the entrance hall, and she's been dead for, well, it's been about ten years, hasn't it? You'll feel better about this whole thing after you've had some time to get some real rest.
"What I am really worried about, minister, is the behavior of the dementors. They went after young Dreemurr directly. Twice. I know they rely on other senses than sight, but even they can tell a young girl from an escaped male prisoner. So why her. And why Potter?"
Dumbledore looked at Snape, then at the minister with a very dark expression on his face.
The minister never did get a chance to reply. Harry Potter exploded with a "What!" from the other bed, and Hermione moved almost as quickly. The three gentlemen came through the hospital wing door, looking at Harry extremely agitated.
After a further row that Frisk simply couldn't concentrate enough to understand, Dumbledore calmly, but firmly, ordered the other adults out of the room. Then he turned to Frisk. "Ms. Dreemurr, I believe you are awake."
Frisk struggled, but sat up. "Yes, sir?" she asked, rubbing her head.
"I need to know the truth, and know it quickly. Did you see Peter Petigrew on the grounds tonight?"
"I saw someone... that wasn't Sirius, that the others told me was Petigrew," Frisk said. "He never acknowledged them."
But this answer seemed to satisfy the headmaster, who turned to Hermione and Harry. "You need to understand. The word of a werewolf – who's testimony will come too late, three underage wizards, and a wizard addled enough to mistake a student for a ghost will not convince anyone. Especially not Fudge, who simply wants this whole mess to go away."
This was met by objections from Harry and Hermione. "I agree. But what we need here is more time."
Hermione's eyes grew wide. And Frisk knew why, if there was a life or death situation... this was it. The minister was about to execute a man who very well may be innocent. "Harry, Hermione?" she said, as Dumbledore stepped out of the door. "Good luck!"
"Good luck..." Harry began to ask, bemused, as Hermione took out a golden chain from the neck of her robe. "What are you..."
...and they vanished into thin air.
Not five seconds later, they reappeared, through the more conventional method of walking through the door.
"What happened?" Frisk asked, her voice low.
"Black escaped on Buckbeak," Hermione reported. "The potion worked, by the way. Lupin fell asleep not far from where he transformed. He's not going to hurt anyone." The lock clicked, and Harry and Hermione quickly climbed back into bed, as Madam Pomfrey came out to check on her patients. They accepted their chocolate quietly, and said nothing to each other.
A few minutes later, there was noise coming from upstairs.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Madam Pomfrey complained, "Now what?"
The door opened, and the three men strode back into the room. Dumbledore's face was serious, while Snape looked smug. Minister Fudge, on the other hand, looked furious.
"When word of this escape gets out... and it will, I'm going to look like a laughing stock!"
"If you wish my opinion," Dumbledore said, "And you often don't, but I shall give it anyway. That is hardly the worst thing that could get out about tonight." Fudge looked about to protest, but Dumbledore raised his voice and kept speaking. "Over the course of this year, Mr. Harry Potter has been directly attacked by dementors three times. Once tonight,"
"He was out of bounds," the minister said.
"Once on the train last fall, as witnessed by Professor Lupin."
"You expect me to believe a werewolf?"
"And once in the middle of a Quidditch match, witnessed by the entire school. Myself included. Is that correct, Mr. Potter?" he asked.
"Yes, headmaster," Harry said, promptly.
At that, the minister's face paled, and his mouth clicked shut.
"Now," Dumbledore continued, "Ms. Frisk Dreemurr was also directly attacked by dementors twice tonight. Once with Harry Potter, and yes. That was out of bounds. The second time was on the doorstep of this castle, and both you and I saw the aftereffects. Do I have that right, Ms. Frisk?" he asked the room, not removing his eyes from the battered minister.
"Yes, sir. That's right," Frisk said.
The minister stared at Dumbledore, his face blank.
"You say they are under the ministry's complete control. So, is there some reason the minister's dementors were going after the boy-who-lived and the adopted daughter of the king and queen of the Mt. Ebott monsters?" There was no reply, "I warned you when you posted them. My position on the dementors has not changed. They will be removed immediately, right?"
"Yes," he said, "Of course."
"And if you want this to stay quiet, we shall have to make it up to the King and Queen before they learn of it..." Dumbledore said. "As this happened at my school, you know what I recommend."
Now Fudge's face went scarlet. "Now, see here Dumbledore, that is an international statute!"
"And I know that the Mt. Ebott monsters aren't covered by that statue... and you can make an exception to the British one..."
"Professors, Minister, please. Can my patients, if there is nothing else you need to ask them, finally get some rest?" Madam Pomfrey begged.
"You have my apologies, Poppy," Dumbledore said sincerely. "The rest of this can be handled in my office. Frisk, Ron, Harry, Hermione, good night. Rest well. I hope I will see you at ten A.M. tomorrow at my office."