Chapter 5.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I am writing to you as a concerned parent after hearing about the kidnapping of Harry Potter. As you know my son shares a dormitory with Harry and the thought that Sirius Black has been in that room twice now fills me with dread.

The boys are thirteen years old. They come to school to learn and to be children, not to be terrified when a friend is taken from the next bed. If this is how the Boy-Who-Lived is protected in your school I dread to think just how easy it would be to walk in and take any other child.

It is only the fact that Black was only interested in Harry that prevents me from pulling Seamus from Hogwarts and teaching him at home. Still I must implore you to look to our children's safety at all times.

Deirdre Finnegan.

Dear Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Mugwump of the Wizengamot.

As I am sure you are aware the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, on whose behalf I write this letter, is concerned at the apparent ease with which Sirius Black, a known murderer and escaped convict was able to break into your school and take one of your most noteworthy students.

As you know after this most unfortunate event took place Minister Fudge immediately recalled the Dementors, after all Black has no further reason to return there and we will be using their abilities to search the country. Your assistance in the search would be most appreciated.

It is with distress that I add Black has probably already killed young Mr Potter, but I, like many others, pray for the safe return of the boy who has captured our hearts.

An investigation will be led by Minister Fudge himself into these events and you and your staff are urged to provide any assistance you can and not to hinder the investigative team.

Yours Sincerely,

Madame Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge.

Albus lowered the letters sadly and glanced about his office. Scrolls littered the desk and some of the chairs and more were arriving hourly. He would read them all. Not one of them could possibly say anything he was not already thinking. Even not knowing Sirius Black was an animagus he should still have been able to prevent him from taking Harry. The boy was his responsibility and anything that happened to him was his fault.

The letters were mostly from parents who, like Mrs Finnegan, were concerned about the safety of their own children. Some came from members of the public who wanted to berate him for not protecting Harry to the best of his ability. Not for the first time he wondered what reaction he would get if it were any other child out there.

It seemed he had received a letter from every parent except for Harry's. Of course Lily and James were long dead and probably rolling in their graves at what their only child was going through at the hands of one they'd called a friend, but why hadn't Petunia Dursley written yet? Was she too distraught?

He'd sent Molly Weasley to tell them the news. She was a comforting woman and her own bond with Harry would allow her to sympathise with what they were going through. He sighed. He really should visit the poor family himself to reassure them that they were doing everything possible to recover Harry.

His fireplace flashed green and a paper plane flew out. It zoomed around the room twice before setting down on Albus' desk. Albus cringed. It was a Ministry memo.

He scanned it quickly before leaning back in his seat. Cornelius had removed all the Dementors the same morning Harry had disappeared as there was no reason for Black to return. Now he wanted to run an investigation of his own. They needed to cease this foolishness and concentrate on the search. The longer they delayed the harder it would be and the less likely they were to find Harry alive.

He glanced up on hearing Fawkes let out a trill and felt the soothing effects of phoenix song. "I don't suppose you have any suggestions," he said lightly.

Fawkes almost seemed to nod his head before singing a note that made Albus feel silly for not asking earlier.

"Really? Can you find Harry? Is he alright?" Phoenixes were a powerfully magical bird, capable of great feats and Fawkes had been fond of Harry ever since they'd met last year. He wouldn't have burned in front of just anyone. It was entirely possible that Fawkes could sense Harry in some way.

Fawkes seemed to think about it before singing a few piping notes that conveyed both doubt and worry to any who heard it.

"Can you take me to him?"

Fawkes actually shook his tiny head.

"I see. Fawkes, my dear friend, will you go to him? Help him in any way you can. Please."

Fawkes eyed him for a long moment before he flashed into a ball of fire and disappeared.

Albus sank into his chair and closed his eyes. Fawkes could very well be Harry's best chance.

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Minerva McGonagall glanced around the crowded common room. No one was playing Quidditch today, or studying in the library, or any of the other myriad of things they liked to do on weekends. Instead they sat in sombre groups and talked quietly. Some of the younger students were crying.

"Mr Weasley," Minerva strode up to the head boy with an air of calm that she did not feel. It was important to be strong for the students at times like these.

"Professor McGonagall," Percy Weasley probably would have stood to attention were it not for the small form of Ginny Weasley lying against his shoulder, apparently in an uneasy sleep. Her eyes were red and blotchy patches covered her pale cheeks.

"Be still, Mr Weasley," Minerva said quietly, so as not to wake the girl. "I'm looking for Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Are they here?" In fact they were the only Gryffindors not here.

"I think they're up in the third year boys dorm, Professor," Percy said.

"I see," Minerva couldn't stop the grim look of disapproval crossing her face.

"No, Professor," Percy said quickly, seeing her lips disappear. "Hermione was upset and Ron was trying to calm her down. She wanted to sleep for a bit, but she's been having trouble with her room mates. They won't leave her alone."

Minerva nodded. The two were only third years after all. They were unlikely to be doing any of the things she often had to give detention to the older students for doing. Still it was against the school rules.

"Very well." She turned to head up the stairs, but was stopped by Percy's voice.

"Is there any news about Harry?"

Instantly she was the centre of attention.

"Nothing as yet," she said gently. Before anyone could ask her anymore questions she swept up the staircase to the boys dormitories.

She found Ronald and Hermione exactly where Percy had said they would be. Hermione was lying face down on Harry's bed, fast asleep. Ronald lay on his own bed, staring at the ceiling. He started when Minerva entered and sat up.

"Professor," he stammered. "Hermione's sleeping."

"Yes, I can see that," Minerva said dryly. Silently she berated herself for taking that tone with the boy. He was obviously distressed at his friend's disappearance.

"I can wake her," he offered. His voice was hoarse and Minerva remembered hearing that he'd stopped speaking to all but the girl lying on the bed.

"No," Minerva said quickly. "There is no need for that. I just wanted to make sure you were both well. It is quite understandable that Mr Potter's abduction would upset you." She noted how Ronald flinched at her words and again was angry with herself. Such tactlessness was expected in students, but not in teachers. "I have spoken to your Professors and you are both excused from tomorrow's classes."

Ronald seemed to think about it. "Thank you, Professor, but I don't think that's necessary. Hermione would go spare if she even heard you suggest it and honestly I would rather be busy."

Minerva nodded. "If that is what you wish." She turned for the door, but paused on seeing Ronald's face fall.

"So you don't know anything about Harry, then?" he said sadly.

Minerva's heart leapt into her throat at his heartbroken voice. "I'm so sorry, Mr Weasley. I know this is hard for you. Please believe me that everything that can be done is being done. We will do anything necessary to bring him home safely."

Ronald nodded and looked away and Minerva was sure she saw his eyes well up with tears. It was this that made her do something she hadn't done in many years. She hugged a student.

It had always been her way to distance herself from the young Gryffindors, especially after the war with You-Know-Who had begun. It had been easier to keep them at arms length rather than become attached to children who would grow up and go out into a world where it was all too likely they would become targets of a Dark Lord or worse, his followers.

But Ronald's distress had touched her heart and she hadn't been able to stop herself and she had reached out to him. Before she knew it he was hugging her back and making snuffling noises into her shoulder. "There, there," she whispered soothingly.

Her voice seemed to bring him back to himself and he pulled away. Minerva nodded to him and left without another word.

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Peter cast his gaze up the street before finally making a decision. He had the cloak didn't he? He would take the boy back from right under Padfoot's nose, just like he took him from under Dumbledore's. Maybe this time he could even taunt him about it.

Taking care to be as silent as possible he approached the boy and dog and followed them right up to the door of the Leaky Cauldron. The boy stopped in the doorway and looked about, seemingly enchanted with the way people's eyes would slide right across him as though he weren't there. He turned and reached for the handle as Padfoot whined in confusion. He'd smelled Peter.

Peter quickened his pace but took care not to make a sound. "What is it?" the boy asked stupidly. Padfoot's reply was to nudge him toward the door with his nose before returning to his search for Peter.

He never opened the door, though. Before he could Peter wrapped one arm around his chest and pointed the boys own wand directly into his throat.

"Make one sound, boy and you'll be dead before you can make another," he hissed into the boy's ear and turned him so he stood between Peter and Padfoot.

Padfoot was growling menacingly, but made no move to approach. Passers by stared at the dog, wondering what had it so worked up and decided against approaching in case it turned on them.

"Stay away, Padfoot, my dear, old friend, or I'll decide the boy's not worth keeping alive."

Padfoot growled and backed up. Peter almost giggled at the horrified look on his canine face.

"Who are you talking to?" the boy asked hesitantly.

"Silence!" Peter ordered, jabbing the wand harder into the boy's throat. "You see, Padfoot, I have all the power here. Now who is weak?"

Padfoot shook his head. Peter was disappointed. He'd hoped to goad him into transforming and causing a scene when the muggles recognised him as the notorious Sirius Black.

He was very aware of the fact he needed to move before someone came out of the door behind him. He was still mostly hidden under the cloak, but the boy would be seen. He weighed his options. He needed to incapacitate Padfoot or they'd be followed. There was one way to do so quickly and effectively.

"Crucio," he said gleefully and this time he really did giggle as the dog dropped to the ground and howled. He held the curse for a long time, relishing the power and control it gave him as well as the suddenly sickened face of the boy he held captive. Finally he lowered the wand and watched as the dog broke down into a whimpering mess. "Stupefy," he said when he finally tired of Padfoot's agony.

"What was that curse?" the boy demanded, a touch of hysteria in his voice. "What did you do?"

"Stupefy," Peter whispered again, this time pointing the wand at the boy. The boy slumped into his arms and Peter hurriedly bundled him under the invisibility cloak. He cast a levitation charm on him and felt him hover a few inches above the ground. Peter held him upright and started moving away, passing very close to Padfoot as he did.

He recalled an old muggle saying, "Never kick a dog while it's down." With another giggle he reared back slightly and kicked the dog as hard as he could and heard the snap of bone. With Padfoot now unable to follow he guided the floating boy away on the next step of their journey.

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Harry awoke slowly. His limbs felt stiff and unresponsive and his head ached. He sat up and looked around. As he did he remembered Wormtail catching him in front of the Leaky Cauldron and cursing the dog.

The dog! Wormtail had called it Padfoot. That was another name from the Marauder's Map. So maybe Padfoot was an animagus too? Maybe all four of them were. He took a moment to wonder what kinds of animals Prongs and Moony could be, but couldn't think of anything. He took heart, though, from the fact that someone else had some idea of what was happening to him and they seemed to want to help him.

Harry tugged on the cuff which was once more around his wrist. He seemed to be in some kind of abandoned warehouse. He assumed they were still in London, but couldn't be sure.

He sighed. Wormtail was unlikely to give him another chance to escape. It looked like his only hope lay with Padfoot, whoever he was and possibly Moony and Prongs, unless they were on Wormtail's side. He had imagined the four Marauder's to be some kind of fun loving pranksters, always in trouble, but never hurting anyone, something like the Weasley twins. It was difficult to equate that image with Wormtail.

Why hadn't Padfoot transformed into a human? That was one of the many things bothering Harry right now. Surely it would have been easier for him to convince Harry as a human and he might have been more good when Wormtail showed up again if he'd been able to do magic.

"Ah, so you're awake, then," Wormtail's hated voice rang out.

Harry tried to turn to the voice but had difficulty with the cuff holding him in place.

"You've been most troublesome, boy," Wormtail continued. "You should have stayed where you were."

Harry was really starting to hate Wormtail. The way he kept calling him 'boy' reminded him of Uncle Vernon.

"But it no longer matters. In fact it works to my advantage. Padfoot is no longer capable of following us."

"You killed him?" Harry gasped.

A strange look crossed Wormtail's face. "No. It wasn't necessary. He is incapacitated and there is no one else that even knows I am alive."

Harry frowned at that. People thought Wormtail was dead? Why? "What about Prongs and Moony? Don't they know you're alive?"

It was Wormtail's turn to look surprised. "He has the map now," he muttered, apparently to himself. He gave Harry an appraising glance. "Prongs is long dead. I as good as killed him myself and Moony is an idiot who believes all that he is told. Padfoot is the only one who knew the truth."

Harry's heart sank at the news. No other Marauder's would be coming to his aid then. "What did you do to Prongs?" he asked dispiritedly.

"I gave his location to the Master," Wormtail said proudly. "The Master was so pleased with me."

"You betrayed your friend?" Harry asked in disbelief. He couldn't imagine ever selling out one of his friends to Voldemort, or them doing it to him either.

"He wasn't my friend," Wormtail hissed angrily. "He was always prancing about, so arrogant and proud. He showed off every chance he got. First it was his power, he was the first of us to figure out the animagus transformation, then it was his wealth when his parents died. Then he showed off his wife and son. She should have been mine."

"You were jealous," Harry said slowly. "You wanted what he had so you gave him to Voldemort. Did you watch as he killed your friend?"

"Crucio," Wormtail yelled and Harry collapsed onto the floor. It was pain beyond anything he had ever experienced before. Red hot knives stabbed him all over, every nerve screamed for release. Harry was sure he was screaming too. Then it was gone and Harry was lying face down on the floor, one arm twisted behind him.

He couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth. "I guess not."

The pain came again. It lasted longer this time and when it stopped Harry was shaking uncontrollably. Still he couldn't stop himself from speaking. "Did you at least get what you wanted? His wife? His money?"

"The Master killed her too," Wormtail said bitterly. "I was forced to live as a rat so that my other 'friends' wouldn't try to get revenge on me. I got nothing."

"Serves you right," Harry said from between clenched teeth.

"Crucio." It was worse than being bitten by a basilisk, worse than facing Quirrell and Voldemort in first year, worse than the time Uncle Vernon had broken his arm and locked him in the cupboard for an entire day before he was taken to the hospital.

He would do anything to make it stop. Just let it end. "Please…"

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"Please…" The boy whispered, but apparently didn't have the strength to say more.

The words brought a thrill of satisfaction to Peter. If he looked at the boy just right he could almost imagine it was James lying before him, powerless, weak, and begging. And when he looked up and said that one magical word, his green eyes shining with unshed tears he could almost hear Lily's voice saying it.

He raised the wand and let the curse end. The boy slumped to the ground, thoroughly exhausted, his limbs shaking uncontrollably.

Peter had forgotten just how good that curse felt, how powerful it made the caster feel. Thirteen years had passed since he'd last used it and now he'd cast it four times in one day. First Padfoot had succumbed to him and then the boy who embodied both Lily and James. He wanted more, but the boy was in no shape to continue. They were stuck here until morning anyway. Maybe in a few hours…

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Sirius Black, who at this very moment was being looked over by a very practical vet, was thoroughly miserable. He'd found his poor godson and almost had him to safety, but his own stupidity had got in the way. Harry's hand had been on the door handle when he'd gone and whined, distracting him. If he'd kept silent Harry would have opened that door and been safe. He might even be back at Hogwarts by now.

It had been the smell, strong and coming their way that had made him do it. He'd recognised it immediately as belonging to the rat and hadn't been able to stop himself.

Then before he could even react Wormtail had Harry and there was no way Sirius could have gotten to him before a curse was sent. Wormtail hadn't waited, he'd cursed Sirius straight off and then it had all gone black.

He'd woken up here a few minutes ago. From what he could gather an elderly muggle woman had found him on the street and brought him in on seeing the way his paws twitched. She couldn't have known it was the after effects of the Cruciatus and neither did the vet. The vet had recognised the broken leg when she'd examined him, though.

Now the muggle woman was fretting in a corner while a vet spoke calmly to her. It seemed they thought he'd been run over by a car. Sirius' ears pricked up when he heard the words, "surgery. Of course that's a last resort. Are you sure you want to take responsibility for him? Depending on what we find it may be kinder to put him down."

A querulous voice replied, "He's just a poor little doggie. Do what you can for him. Will I be able to take him home afterwards?"

Little? He wasn't little! He was a big, manly, beast of a dog, that's what he was.

"I don't see why not," the vet said kindly. "He has no collar so I expect he's just a stray. I'll need to give him a full health check first, you understand. If you'll go out to the waiting area, I'll have someone get you a cup of tea."

Sirius lifted his head in alarm. Live with that old woman? He was a dog, not a piece of property to be traded! Besides he had better things to do, like prove his innocence kill Wormtail and rescue Harry, probably not in that order. For a moment he allowed himself to think of the possibility of living as some old bird's pampered pet. No, that kind of living was best left to Wormtail.

The old woman left Sirius alone with the vet. She was quite young for the job, but seemed capable.

She picked up some kind of weird device and spoke into it. "Evan, I've got a stray up here. Car accident. Probable broken leg, maybe injured in other places I can't see. Needs an X-ray. Can you get everything set up? Thanks."

X-ray? Sirius didn't know what that was and he certainly wasn't hanging about to find out. He placed one paw on the table and tried to put weight on it, immediately collapsing back onto the table.

The vet had noticed the attempt and come over to stop him trying again. "You're certainly a spirited thing aren't you? No stupid little car's going to keep you down, I see. Don't worry, boy, I'll have you out of here as soon as I can and then you can go and live with the nice lady who brought you here. Won't that be nice?"

'No it most certainly won't,' Sirius thought frantically. 'I have to get to Harry before Wormtail leaves the country with him.'

He growled impatiently at the woman as she tried to hold him still.

"None of that," she said firmly, tapping him on the nose. She sighed. "I guess you need another sedative."

She stepped away and opened a cabinet.

Sirius was panicking. Right now he needed to get out of here, but he couldn't stand on the broken leg and would never catch them like this, but he didn't have time to stay here in this muggle clinic and wait for their barbaric healing methods to work. There was only one option he could think of.

The vet turned back to him, a syringe in one hand. "Just one little injection and you'll be out like a light," she promised cheerfully, her eyes on the needle. Sirius wasn't sure why she thought telling him these things was helping. No normal dog would understand and even if it did then he doubted it would be comforted.

The vet looked up from the syringe.

She screamed.

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A/N: Ok that last little bit was really fun to write so I hope you enjoyed it half as much as I did. Poor Sirius at the mercy of a muggle vet, but not for long.

Please let me know what you think in a review or you can join my yahoo! Group and comment there. The link is on my profile.

Thanks for reading.

Nats.