June arrived, and still there was no sign of Peter. Sirius began to despair of ever clearing his name. Between his anxiety over the continued presence of the Dementors, his frustration at the apparent failure of his quest, and the near-perpetual daylight that was summer in Scotland, he hardly slept.
The ever-present sunlight also meant that the castle grounds were frequently strewn with students enjoying the glorious weather. In consequence, Sirius was forced to spend much of his time lying hidden in the Forbidden Forest, which only served to increase his anxiety and frustration. Not that his regular nighttime patrols had turned up so much as a whiff of rat-scent.
He remembered with disgust the euphoria he had felt less than a year ago, upon his escape from Azkaban - how certain he had been that finding Peter and clearing his name would be a simple matter once he reached Hogwarts. He should have known better. A man who had spent twelve years well-hidden enough to convince the world that he was dead clearly knew a thing or two about not being found. And if Remus had not sniffed him out either - But then, Remus was not looking for Peter, and there was not so very much to distinguish the scent of one frightened rat from another.
Early one bright morning in June, Sirius saw a familiar figure exiting the castle. He had not seen Remus in nearly six months. Sirius could see the lines of tension in his body even from his hiding place at the edge of the forest, and when Remus paused to sniff the air, Sirius flattened himself amongst the bushes, though he was sure that, even on the day before the full moon, Remus would not be able to scent him from so far away.
Apart from Remus, the castle grounds were deserted at this hour of the morning. Sirius watched warily as Remus looked around, and then strode decisively toward him. He tensed himself to flee- if Remus came too much closer, he would definitely be able to detect Sirius's presence - but Remus stopped still well short the limits of his senses.
Sirius watched in puzzlement, and then in growing pleasure, as Remus drew his wand from beneath his robes and began using it to mold the landscape, removing chunks of earth, summoning water from the lake with a casual gesture, and at last, calling a number of jars and heavy glass tanks filled with strange creatures down from the castle.
It had been some time since Sirius had seen magic being used so casually and competently. He noted with approval that Remus's confidence in his own abilities had grown considerably over the course of the intervening years. At one time, Remus would have taken forever to do things the Muggle way, hesitating to use magic in case it got away from him. Remus had always been very conscious of his own self-control and its limits. But now his hands moved surely, fingers curved in casual elegance as he nudged his strange landscaping experiment this way and that. Sirius had always loved those hands.
Sunlight was streaming down on the castle grounds by the time Remus nodded with satisfaction and put his wand away. Sirius had no more idea of what he was up to than when he had begun, until several students exited the castle and slouched down through the grounds toward them, looking exhausted and nervous, and then he remembered that it must be exam week. He suddenly realised he had never even thought to wonder which subject Remus taught at the school.
It was with amusement that Sirius heard Remus welcome the third year students to their Defence Against the Dark Arts examination.
He's taken the Defence position, eh?
Remus had always been bloody marvelous at Defence Against the Dark Arts, the only class in which his marks consistently topped all three of his friends'.
Sirius wondered, as he had not for some time, if there were any truth to the rumours that the position was cursed, and whether Remus had been teaching at Hogwarts longer than a year. If the same pattern held true from his own schooldays, then Remus might not be back next year. Sirius's amusement failed him as he recalled the strange mishaps which had befallen a number of his former professors, including likable old Professor Seagram, who had taught Defence during their sixth year, and who had left the school abruptly in late spring. There had been rumours at the time of a scandal of a personal nature involving the professor and an unnamed Slytherin student, though Seagram had claimed to the last not to recall the incident.
Sirius was not a superstitious man by nature, but it was undeniable that things tended to happen to those who took the Defence position at Hogwarts. He was assailed by worry that something might suddenly happen to Remus, and looked around nervously. But the sky was clear and the sun shone brightly on the pale, nervous-looking students and the lake. He could see nothing more dangerous than the few small creatures Remus had brought out for the examination, and none of those would prove deadly to an experienced wizard.
What if it's me? he wondered suddenly. What if something's going to happen to do with me, and Remus will be forced to leave?
The thought gave him a tiny, internal twinge of excitement. The "curse" on the Defence position did not always mean harm to those who filled it. But then his thoughts darkened again.
What if it's Peter? He's proved that our lives don't mean much to him.
The thought that Peter might try to harm Remus brought a soft growl to Sirius's throat.
As the students, one by one, executed Remus's obstacle course examination, Sirius's worry faded slightly, and he pricked his ears forward with interest. Harry was among the students participating, and Sirius was curious to see a practical demonstration of his godson's magical ability. From his hiding place, he could hear very little of what was going on, but he saw Remus beaming with pride and fondness as Harry completed the series of challenges, and the answering grin from Harry. A tiny weed of envy sprang up in his bosom at the goodwill Remus and Harry clearly shared, but he quickly stamped it out. He desperately hoped that, one day, Harry would look at him that way. And Remus too.
A hush settled over the Hogwarts grounds. The exam-weary students had long since trooped back inside. Remus had returned his creatures to the safety of their portable homes, and carefully readjusted the earth and grass back to the way they had been, until they were indistinguishable from the greensward around them. With regret, Sirius had watched Remus return to the castle, wondering when, if ever, he would see him again.
Early afternoon sunlight streamed down into the grounds, and made Sirius sleepy in spite of himself. He felt his eyelids drooping, felt the cool earth of the forest floor under his muzzle, and wondered if there was any point in staying.
For all he knew, between his own presence and Remus's, Peter might have decided that Harry was not worth the trouble. He could be anywhere by now; an anonymous rat in the wilds of Scotland. If he had gone, then there was no reason for Sirius to remain, and plenty for him to follow Peter's example. No reason except one: Remus was here.
He had nearly drifted off when movement caught his eye. Three figures were exiting the castle, making their way slowly down the grounds. As they drew nearer, Sirius recognised one of them as Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. He was puzzled by why Fudge should be visiting Hogwarts, until he caught sight of the second man. Tall, straight-bodied, and in his middle years, Walden McNair carried an axe on his belt. Sirius had heard Hagrid mention after Buckbeak's hearing that McNair had been appointed the Committee's executioner, and the identity of the third man confirmed their errand.
Abraxas Malfoy, chairman of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, looked unwell, and much older than when Sirius had seen him last. Sirius bared his teeth in dislike. This Malfoy was perhaps his least favourite of the lot, having used his position to make Remus's life even more difficult that necessary, filled with red tape and pointless bureaucracy, dished out with a smile that never quite reached his eyes. The only member of the department who might possibly have been more unpleasant had been Malfoy's secretary, a toad-like woman who smiled blandly and pretended not to hear or understand when Remus had spoken to her, requiring Sirius to act as translator for the "unintelligible growls" of the "half-breed".
The three men disappeared into Hagrid's hut, and Sirius slunk closer along the edge of the forest, hoping to hear something of what was going on inside. His sharp ears could pick up nothing more than the low murmur of voices, however, even when he risked a short excursion into the pumpkin patch around back of the hut, where Buckbeak was currently tethered to the fence. The Hippogriff was oblivious to the fact that his fate was at that moment being decided. He lay in the sun, his great, orange eyes half-closed. Sirius gave him an encouraging whine and a lick before retreating to the relative safety of the forest.
The outcome of the final hearing was not long in coming, and when it came, it was clear to Sirius what had been decided. A great howl of anguish boiled out of the hut, and then there was silence. A moment later, the door opened, and Fudge and the two Committee representatives returned to the castle, looking grim.
Sirius put his head on his paws with a little moan of pity, both for Buckbeak and for Hagrid. His own history gave him a great deal of fellow-feeling for the Hippogriff. He wished there were something he could do to save Buckbeak from his fate, but he could never manage the chain in canine form, and appearing in human form would be risking his own life. All he could do was remain nearby, and hope that an opportunity would present itself.
When Hagrid came out into the pumpkin patch, a white-faced barn owl on his arm, Sirius trotted out of the woods to meet him. He waited patiently for Hagrid to release the owl on its errand before nuzzling the huge man's limp fingers.
Hagrid started. "Oh. It's you," he said dully, giving Sirius no more than the briefest pat. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere. He sat down heavily on the ground next to the Hippogriff. Buckbeak nudged Hagrid hopefully with his great, steel-coloured beak, and Hagrid produced a rather bedraggled-looking dead ferret from inside his coat.
As the Hippogriff happily devoured his treat, Sirius lay down on Hagrid's other side, and rested his muzzle on Hagrid's knee.
"Ah, ye're a good beast," Hagrid said, scratching Sirius fondly behind the ears with a surprisingly-gentle hand. "Yeh both are. If them Committee bastards can' see it - Don' see how they can' see it," he finished thickly.
He pulled out a large and very crumpled handkerchief, and blew his nose so loudly that a flock of geese were startled from the surface of the lake in the distance, and took to the air, honking just as noisily.
Hagrid had brought a bottle with him, to keep him company. He uncorked it and took a long swig. Both the dog and the Hippogriff sneezed explosively as the alcoholic fumes hit them, and Hagrid managed a small, watery chuckle.
As the level of the bottle sank, and the warm summer sun made its lazy way across the sky, Sirius dozed, his head still resting on Hagrid's knee, soothed by the rise and fall of the huge man's voice, by turns verbally abusing the Committee, telling Buckbeak what a wonderful Hippogriff he was, drunkenly wheezing out slow, sad songs of loss and regret, and occasionally lapsing into a woeful, sniffling silence.
Sirius dreamed. In his dream, he had found Peter. The rat's fear was sharp in his nose, and the crunch of slender bones between his teeth and the coppery tang of blood seemed real and immediate. He laid the still and mangled creature at the feet of Remus and Harry, and they beamed at him with fondness and pride.
He awoke disoriented, the scent of the rat still in his nose, lying in the pumpkin patch. He shook himself and looked around quickly, sniffing the air, but the cacophony of animal musks which surrounded Hagrid's hut was too chaotic. He had probably just dreamed the scent along with everything else.
Hagrid had gone, and Buckbeak was dozing lightly. An evening light was falling as the edge of the sun touched the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and the air was noticeably cooler.
Sirius had no idea how long he had been asleep, and cursed himself silently for letting his guard down. The Minister and the Committee representatives would be back at sunset to perform the execution, and he did not want them to see him, whether they recognised him or not. He glanced warily up at the school just in time to see the great oak doors open and close. No one came out. A moment later, they opened again. It was not the Ministry embassy, but Harry and the girl Hermione.
Sirius quickly made for the cool, green safety of the forest, then turned back to watch. What he saw puzzled him. Harry and Hermione moved quickly and stealthily through the long shadows of the grounds, from time to time glancing nervously over their shoulders.
Not so surprising, thought Sirius. Wouldn't be the first time a boy and girl have sneaked out of Hogwarts on a summer evening.
But if that were the case, why were they not holding hands, or even walking close together? He followed their progress with his eyes as they made a wide circle around the green houses, down the grounds almost at a run, and past the Whomping Willow, entering the Forbidden Forest not very far from where Sirius lay hidden.
He could hear them moving through the brush. They were coming toward him. He lay very still. Hidden among the green leaves of summer, he would be little more than a shadow to them. Unless they stepped on him. He held his breath. They passed within five feet of him, unknowing, and stopped on the other side of a large oak tree, close enough that he could hear their harsh breathing. What were they doing? Apparently not what he had thought at first. He could smell the fear on them.
A faint knocking sound distracted him. He had been so busy watching Harry and Hermione that he had not remember the imminence of the Ministry officials. But when he turned back to Hagrid's hut, he saw no one there.
"It's us," called a voice from the general direction of Hagrid's front door. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."
Sirius started in surprise. That was Harry's voice! But Harry was - It was all he could do to stay still.
What in Slytherin's pants is going on?!
Hagrid opened the door and stood back, saying something too soft for Sirius to catch, and then closed it again.
"This is the weirdest thing we've ever done," said Harry's voice, off to Sirius's right.
"Let's move along a bit." Hermione's voice was breathless. "We need to get nearer to Buckbeak."
Sirius heard them moving away from him, wishing he could follow. He was desperately confused, and worried that some Dark Magic was afoot, and targeting Harry. If he could only hear what these two were saying, they might offer him some clue as to the nature of the threat.
He could hear them arguing in hushed voices, but could pick out no more than snatches and stray words. A crash from inside the hut startled him, but not as much as what he heard next.
"I'm going to find Scabbers in a moment -" Hermione whispered somewhat shrilly.
A shriek of surprise rent the air, somewhat muffled by the walls of the hut.
"Hermione," replied Harry's voice, filled with barely-suppressed excitement, "what if we - we just run in there, and grab Pettigrew -"
Sirius thought his heart had stopped beating.
Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew. Here? In Hagrid's hut? And Harry - if it was Harry - knew about him?
The evening was growing more bizarre by the minute. Sirius wondered if he was going mad at last. He had no real reason to believe Harry's astounding revelation to be true, but what if it was?
He could no longer hear the voices of the two children in the forest. All he could hear was his heart pounding, the blood rushing in his ears. He wondered if dogs could faint. Something was going on. Something to do with Peter. He must think clearly - take decisive action - figure out what the hell was going on.
The castle doors opened once more. This time, it was the Ministry officials, and Dumbledore as well. A moment later, Sirius saw Hagrid open the back door of the hut, and usher the second Harry and Hermione, along with Ron, out into the dusk. He had a brief glimpse of something struggling in Ron's hands before the Invisibility Cloak settled over the three teenagers.
This was it. His moment had come. He must somehow intercept them on their way back to the castle, but without giving Peter too much warning that he was coming. He cast his eyes frantically across the grounds, but there was very little cover between Hagrid's hut and the castle doors. Only one tree stood on the open grounds of the school: the Whomping Willow. As his eyes fell upon the tree, he thought he saw a ginger shadow slide beneath its branches. Yes. He could hide between the roots of the tree. And if he hurried, he could get there long before the three children, hampered by the Invisibility Cloak, would reach it.
On padded paws, he slunk from his hiding place, and away from the other Harry and Hermione, who were too caught up in watching the drama of the Hippogriff unfolding to notice him. He quickly skirted the shadows along the edge of the treeline, then, gathering his paws under him, made a quick dash to the relative shelter of the Whomping Willow, approaching it from the opposite direction of the cloaked teenagers.
He had expected to have to avoid the tree's vicious branches, but evidently someone had already seen to the secret knot which stilled the tree's movements. He sent a brief thought of thinks after the fluffy, ginger hindquarters of the cat, which crept through the grass, stalking his invisible prey, bottlebrush tail twitching.
Sirius would have a few minutes before the tree regained its fighting spirit. He huddled in the opening of the secret passage, eyes fixed intently on they empty lawn before him. Somewhere in that space, there were three hidden children and a very imperiled rat.
Where are they?
Sirius bared his teeth in frustration. Darkness was beginning to fall, making it even harder to pick out things like grass crushed flat by a passing footfall. He heard a rustling sound - Is that them? - and then a cry of pain, quickly stifled. Movement caught his eye, and he noticed Crookshanks slinking through the grass. Could the cat sense them in some way that he could not?
There was another cry, and a sudden explosion of movement. Crookshanks leapt at something, moving faster than Sirius would have believed possible. Ron appeared out of nowhere, and took off after the cat at a dead run, shouting at the top of his voice. Sirius was finding it very difficult to sort everything out in the gathering darkness, but he thought he knew what the cat was doing; Crookshanks was herding the rat toward the Whomping Willow.
Good cat! he thought, and prepared himself to spring.
Harry and Hermione had appeared, chasing after Ron. Before they could come within reach of the tree, though, Ron had caught up with Crookshanks and tumbled over him, making a wild grab in the darkness.
"Gotcha!"
Harry and Hermione were staring after Ron, and Ron was entirely focussed on subduing the squeaking lump in his pocket. It was now or never. Commending his soul to what he hoped would prove to be a benevolent deity, Sirius sprang from his hiding place and rushed at the three huddled figures.
Three pairs of eyes were suddenly on him, three mouths hung open in shock, but there was no room in Sirius's mind for any thought beyond that he must get to the rat - it must not elude him again. He pushed past Harry, half falling over him with the inertia of his movement, and seized Ron's arm in his jaws, pulling the boy roughly off his feet.
The other children tried in vain to grab hold of him, but Sirius dragged the redheaded boy and his rodent cargo relentlessly back toward his hiding place. In the midst of their struggle, however, the Whomping Willow had come back to life, and Sirius only narrowly avoided being knocked insensible by its flying branches.
He had to get to the Shrieking Shack, he knew. Even a rat would not be able to hide there for long, and the whole place had long ago been sealed off, both magically and physically by Albus Dumbledore. There was only the one entrance. Peter would not escape again.
He tumbled into the cool dark of the secret passage, dragging Ron after him. There was a moment of resistance, a sharp cry in the darkness, and then Ron went limp. Sirius got a better grip on his arm and began to make his way swiftly and resolutely down the passageway.