Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is J.K. Rowling's except Jamie, Luka, and Ariana.
Chapter 19- Hermione's Secret
"Shocking business . . . shocking . . . miracle none of them died . . . never heard the like . . . by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape. . . ."
"Thank you, Minister."
"Order of Merlin, Second Class, I'd say. First Class, if I can wangle it!"
"Thank you very much indeed, Minister."
"Nasty cut you've got there. . . . Black's work, I suppose?"
"As a matter of fact, it was Potter, Weasley, Granger, and Pendragon Minister. . . ."
"No!"
"Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behavior. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren't responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape. . . . They obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. They've got away with a great deal before now. . . . I'm afraid it's given them a rather high opinion of themselves . . . and of course Potter has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of license by the headmaster —"
"Ah, well, Snape . . . Harry Potter, you know . . . we've all got a bit of a blind spot where he's concerned."
What in the name of Merlin's saggy pants is going on here? Why on earth is Snape of all people getting an Order of Merlin? He's never done anything heroic in his whole life! Actually where am I, and why does my head not hurt anymore?
"And yet — is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try and treat him like any other student. And any other student would be suspended — at the very least — for leading his friends into such danger. Consider, Minister — against all school rules — after all the precautions put in place for his protection — out-of-bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer — and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally too —"
"Well, well . . . we shall see, Snape, we shall see. . . . The boy has undoubtedly been foolish. . . ." Why if I thought that I could get out of this bed without falling, and punch Snape without any repercussions I would. No one gets to talk about my friend like that, not even the Minister, and least of all Snape!
"What amazes me most is the behavior of the dementors . . . you've really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?"
"No, Minister . . . by the time I had come 'round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances. . . ."
"Extraordinary. And yet Black, Harry, Jamie, and the girl —"
"All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers, and brought them all straight back to the castle." So that's what happened… that no good low life is ruining everything! Why I ought to blow up a caldroun in his face that next time we're in potions!
I open my eyes, and squint against the brightness of the room around me. I am lying in the dark hospital wing. At the very end of the ward, I can make out Madam Pomfrey with her back to me, bending over a bed. Ron's red hair is visible beneath Madam Pomfrey's arm.
I move my head over on the pillow. In the bed to my right lies Hermione. Moonlight is falling across her bed. Her eyes are open too. She looks petrified, and when she sees that I am awake, presses a finger to her lips, then points to the hospital wing door. It is ajar, and the voices of Cornelius Fudge and Snape are coming through it from the corridor outside.
I look to my left and see that Harry is lying in the bed there, and that he's awake as well, but his eyes glint angrily. I signal to him that he should keep quiet as well. Madam Pomfrey now comes walking briskly up the dark ward to Harry's bed. I turn to look at her. She is carrying the largest block of chocolate I have ever seen in my life. Luka would be so jealous! It looks like a small boulder.
"Ah, you're awake!" she says briskly. She places the chocolate on Harry's bedside table and begins breaking it apart with a small hammer.
"How's Ron?" The three of us say together.
"He'll live," says Madam Pomfrey grimly. "As for you two . . . you'll be staying here until I'm satisfied you're — Potter, what do you think you're doing?"
Harry is sitting up, putting his glasses back on, and picking up his wand. "I need to see the headmaster," he says. I push up on my elbows, and wince from how sore my body still is.
"Potter," says Madam Pomfrey soothingly, "it's all right. They've got Black. He's locked away upstairs. The dementors will be performing the Kiss any moment now —"
"WHAT?" We cry.
I jump up out of bed; Hermione and Harry have done the same. But our shouts shout have been heard in the corridor outside; next second, Cornelius Fudge and Snape have entered the ward.
"Jamie, Harry, what's this?" says Fudge, looking agitated. "You should be in bed — have they had any chocolate?" he asks Madam Pomfrey anxiously.
"Minister, listen!" I say attempting to help my friend. "Sirius Black's innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the dementors do that thing to Sirius, he's —"
But Fudge is shaking his head with a small smile on his face.
"Jamie, Jamie, you're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control. . . ."
"YOU HAVEN'T!" Harry yells. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"
"Minister, listen, please," Hermione says; she has hurried to Harry's and my side and is gazing imploringly into Fudge's face. "I saw him too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and —"
"You see, Minister?" says Snape. "Confunded, the three of them. . . . Black's done a very good job on them. . . ."
"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Harry roars. I flinch in shock at the tone that he's taken here.
"Minister! Professor!" says Madam Pomfrey angrily. "I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!"
"I'm not distressed, I'm trying to tell them what happened!" Harry says furiously. "If they'd just listen —"
But Madam Pomfrey suddenly stuffs a large chunk of chocolate into Harry's mouth; he chokes, and she seizes the opportunity to force him back onto the bed.
"Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave —" The door opens again. It is Dumbledore. Harry swallows his mouthful of chocolate with great difficulty and gets up again.
I stand defensively next to Hermione in case anything bad should occur. "Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black —" I start.
"For heaven's sake!" says Madam Pomfrey hysterically. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist —"
"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter, Miss Pendragon, and Miss Granger," says Dumbledore calmly. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black —"
"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" spits Snape. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive —"
"That, indeed, is Black's story," says Dumbledore, surveying Snape closely through his half-moon spectacles.
"And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarls Snape. Um… Yes! "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."
"That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" says Hermione earnestly. "You didn't arrive in time to hear —"
"Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" I take a step forward my fists shaking at my sides, but Hermione grabs my arm and pulls me back to her. He has no right to ever speak to her again, not after what he said the last time!
"Now, Snape," says Fudge, startled, "the young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances —"
"We're not disturbed!" I shout.
"I would like to speak to Harry, Hermione, and Jamie alone," says Dumbledore abruptly. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy — please leave us." Whoa he's even making Madam Pomfrey leave us now.
"Headmaster!" sputters Madam Pomfrey. "They need treatment, they need rest —"
"This cannot wait," says Dumbledore. "I must insist."
Madam Pomfrey purses her lips and strides away into her office at the end of the ward, slamming the door behind her. Fudge consults the large gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat.
"The dementors should have arrived by now," he says. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."
He crosses to the door and holds it open for Snape, but Snape hasn't moved. "You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispers, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face. Why do I feel that I've just interrupted a very private moment here?
I shift nervously to my other foot. "I wish to speak to Jamie, Harry, and Hermione alone," Dumbledore repeats.
Snape takes a step towards Dumbledore. "Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathes. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"
"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," says Dumbledore quietly.
Snape turns on his heel and marches through the door Fudge is still holding. It closes behind them, and Dumbledore turns to the three of us. We all burst into speech at the same time.
"Professor, Black's telling the truth — we saw Pettigrew —"
"— he escaped when Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf —"
"— he's a rat —"
"— Pettigrew's front paw, I mean, finger, he cut it off —"
"— Pettigrew attacked Ron, it wasn't Sirius —"
But Dumbledore holds up his hand to stem the flood of explanations. Uh oh, I don't like the look on his face.
"It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time," he says quietly. "There is not a shred of proof to support Black's story, except your word — and the word of three thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper."
"Professor Lupin can tell you —" Harry says, unable to stop himself.
"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little — and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends —"
"But —" I try.
"Listen to me, Jamie. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape's version of events is far more convincing than yours."
"He hates Sirius," Hermione says desperately. "All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him —"
"Sirius has not acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Lady — entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife — without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius's sentence."
"But you believe us." Harry says.
"Yes, I do," says Dumbledore quietly. "But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic. . . ."
"What we need," says Dumbledore slowly, and his light blue eyes move from Harry and me to Hermione, "is more time."
"But —" Hermione begins. And then her eyes become very round. "OH!"
"Now, pay attention," says Dumbledore, speaking very low, and very clearly. "Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this, both of you: You must not be seen. Miss Granger, you know the law — you know what is at stake. . . . You — must — not — be — seen."
I don't have a clue about what is going on. Dumbledore turns on his heel and looks back as he reaches the door. "I am going to lock you in. It is —" he consults his watch, "five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."
"Good luck?" I repeat as the door closed behind Dumbledore. "Three turns? What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do?"
But Hermione is fumbling with the neck of her robes, pulling from beneath them a very long, very fine gold chain.
"Harry, Jamie, come here," she says urgently. "Quick!"
Harry and I move towards her, completely bewildered. She is holding the chain out. I see a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from it.
"Here —" She has thrown the chain around our necks too.
"Ready?" she says breathlessly.
"What are we doing?" Harry says, completely lost. Hermione turns the hourglass over three times. Wait! Is that what I think it is! Oh Merlin please no!
The dark ward dissolves. I have the sensation that I am flying very fast, backward. A blur of colors and shapes rush past me, my ears are pounding, I try to yell but can't hear my own voice —
And then I feel solid ground beneath my feet, and everything comes into focus again — Okay that wasn't fun.
I am standing next to Hermione, and Harry in the deserted entrance hall and a stream of golden sunlight is falling across the paved floor from the open front doors. I look wildly around at Hermione, the chain of the hourglass cutting into my neck.
"Hermione, what — ?" Harry starts.
"In here!" Hermione seizes Harry's and my arms and drags us across the hall to the door of a broom closet; she opens it, pushes us inside among the buckets and mops, then slams the door behind us.
"What — how — Hermione, what happened?" I ask her staring accusingly at the necklace.
"We've gone back in time," Hermione whispers, lifting the chain off Harry's and my neck in the darkness. "Three hours back . . ."
I can't believe that she actually has one of those. No one our age should have been able to get a hold of one.
"But —" Harry sputters.
"Shh! Listen! Someone's coming! I think — I think it might be us!" Hermione has her ear pressed against the cupboard door.
"Footsteps across the hall . . . yes, I think it's us going down to Hagrid's!"
"Are you telling me," I whisper, "that we're here in this cupboard and we're out there too?"
"Yes," says Hermione, her ear still glued to the cupboard door. "I'm sure it's us. It doesn't sound like more than four people . . . and we're walking slowly because we're under the Invisibility Cloak —"
She breaks off, still listening intently. "We've gone down the front steps. . . ." This is one of the weirdest out of body experiences that I've ever had before.
"Wicked." I mutter softly.
Hermione sits down on an upturned bucket, looking desperately anxious, but Harry seems to want a few questions answered.
"Where did you get that hourglass thing?" He asks.
"It's called a Time-Turner," Hermione whispers, "and I got it from Professor McGonagall on our first day back. I've been using it all year to get to all my lessons. Professor McGonagall made me swear I wouldn't tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. She had to tell them that I was a model student, and that I'd never, ever use it for anything except my studies. . . . I've been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that's how I've been doing several lessons at once, see? But . . ."
"Ha! I knew something strange was going on with her Harry! You thought that it was all child's play but I was right!" I cry, excited that my detective work paid off somewhat. Hermione ignores my pleased outburst.
"Guys, I don't understand what Dumbledore wants us to do. Why did he tell us to go back three hours? How's that going to help Sirius?" The smile slips off my face. Hermione Granger doesn't know what to do? This must be more serious then I thought.
I place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "There must be something that happened around now he wants us to change," Harry sats slowly. "What happened? We were walking down to Hagrid's three hours ago. . . ."
"This is three hours ago, and we are walking down to Hagrid's," says Hermione. "We just heard ourselves leaving. . . ."
I bite my lower lip in thought. "Dumbledore just said — just said we could save more than one innocent life. . . ." And then it hits me. "Hermione, we're going to save Buckbeak!"
"But — how will that help Sirius?" She asks quizzically.
"Dumbledore said — he just told us where the window is — the window of Flitwick's office! Where they've got Sirius locked up! We've got to fly Buckbeak up to the window and rescue Sirius! Sirius can escape on Buckbeak — they can escape together!" Harry cries catching onto my train of though. We grin at each other in the dim light. Hermione on the other hand looks terrified.
"If we manage that without being seen, it'll be a miracle!" She squeaks.
"Well, we've got to try, haven't we?" I say. Harry stands up and presses his ear against the door.
"Doesn't sound like anyone's there. . . . Come on, let's go. . . ." The three of us push out of the closet and slink over to the entrance of the castle.
"Where on earth are you three going?" A suspicious voice says. We freeze and turn around slowly, and we're faced by the young Ariana Dumbledore with her hands on her hips in an intimidating pose. I wince half expecting her to yell at me for getting yet another head injury, and ending up in the hospital wing, but I remember that this is three hours ago, and then I was fine.
"Oh nothing really…" Hermione attempts to say nonchalantly. She fails miserably at the whole lying thing by the way. Ariana narrows her brown eyes at the three of us.
"Uh huh…" She says totally no believing us. Okay this is crazy!
"Ariana, we just came back three hours in time from the hospital wing where we were laid up by dementors, and I had a head injury. Now we're off to save Buckbeak, and Sirius Black is innocent by the way, and Ron's pet rat is actually Peter Pettigrew who has long since been dead!" I admit. Ariana stands there for a minute blinking at us, before a furious look comes across her face.
"You don't have to lie to me Jamie! If you don't want me around, you could have just said so!" She cries, and with that she spins on her heel and marches off into the castle away from us. I stand there shocked about what had just happened.
"Come on Jamie, we have to go." Hermione says grabbing my arm, and pulling me out of the castle after Harry.
"I told her the truth." I say dumbfounded. Hermione smirks at me.
"Sometimes the truth can sound like a lie Jamie." She tells me.
The shadows are already lengthening, the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest gilded once more with gold.
"If anyone's looking out of the window —" Hermione squeakss, looking up at the castle behind us, already back to terrified.
"We'll run for it," says Harry determinedly. "Straight into the forest, all right? We'll have to hide behind a tree or something and keep a lookout —"
"Okay, but we'll go around by the greenhouses!" says Hermione breathlessly. "We need to keep out of sight of Hagrid's front door, or we'll see us! We must be nearly at Hagrid's by now!"
Why do we have to take another route? We set off at a sprint. Thankfully I'm feeling much better since waking up in the hospital wing. We tear across the vegetable gardens to the greenhouses, pause for a moment behind them, then set off again, fast as we can, skirting around the Whomping Willow, tearing toward the shelter of the forest. . . .
Safe in the shadows of the trees, Harry turns around me right next to him; seconds later, Hermione arrives beside us, panting.
"Right," she gasps. "We need to sneak over to Hagrid's. . . . Keep out of sight, guys. . . ."
We make our way silently through the trees, keeping to the very edge of the forest. Then, as we glimpse the front of Hagrid's house, we hear a knock upon his door. We move quickly behind a wide oak trunk and peer out from either side. Hagrid has appeared in his doorway, shaking and white, looking around to see who has knocked. And I hear Harry's voice.
"It's us. We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."
"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispers. He stands back, then shuts the door quickly.
"This is the weirdest thing we've ever done," Harry says fervently.
"I second that opinion, and we've done some pretty weird things." I shiver. We don't have our cloaks with us this time.
"Let's move along a bit," Hermione whispers. "We need to get nearer to Buckbeak!"
We creep through the trees until we see the nervous hippogriff, tethered to the fence around Hagrid's pumpkin patch.
"Now?" Harry whispers.
"No!" says Hermione. "If we steal him now, those Committee people will think Hagrid set him free! We've got to wait until they've seen he's tied outside!"
"That's going to give us about sixty seconds," I say nervously. This is starting to seem impossible.
At that moment, there is a crash of breaking china from inside Hagrid's cabin.
"That's Hagrid breaking the milk jug," Hermione whispers. "I'm going to find Scabbers in a moment —" My anger heats up at hearing that traitor's name.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, we hear Hermione's shriek of surprise.
"Hermione," says Harry suddenly, "what if we — we just run in there and grab Pettigrew —"
"No!" says Hermione in a terrified whisper. "Don't you understand? We're breaking one of the most important Wizarding laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody! You heard Dumbledore, if we're seen —"
"We'd only be seen by ourselves and Hagrid!" Harry argues.
"Harry, what do you think you'd do if you saw yourself bursting into Hagrid's house?" asks Hermione.
"I'd — I'd think I'd gone mad," says Harry, "or I'd think there was some Dark Magic going on —"
"Exactly! You wouldn't understand, you might even attack yourself! Don't you see? Professor McGonagall told me what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time. . . . Loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!"
"Okay!" says Harry. "It was just an idea, I just thought —"
But Hermione nudges us and points towards the castle. I move my head a few inches to get a clear view of the distant front doors. Dumbledore, Fudge, the old Committee member, and Macnair the executioner are coming down the steps.
"We're about to come out!" Hermione breathes.
And sure enough, moments later, Hagrid's back door opens, and I see myself, Ron, Harry, and Hermione walking out of it with Hagrid. It is, without a doubt, the strangest sensation of my life, standing behind the tree, and watching myself in the pumpkin patch.
"It's okay, Beaky, it's okay . . . ," Hagrid says to Buckbeak. Then he turns to the four of us. "Go on. Get goin'."
"Hagrid, we can't —"
"We'll tell them what really happened —"
"They can't kill him —"
"I'm sorry Hagrid…"
"Go! It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"
I watch the Hermione in the pumpkin patch throw the Invisibility Cloak over us. This is so freaky.
"Go quick. Don' listen. . . ."
There is a knock on Hagrid's front door. The execution party has arrived. Hagrid turns around and heads back into his cabin, leaving the back door ajar. I watch the grass flatten in patches all around the cabin and hear four pairs of feet retreating. We have gone . . . but the Harry, Hermione, and I hidden in the trees can now hear what is happening inside the cabin through the back door.
"Where is the beast?" comes the cold voice of Macnair.
"Out — outside," Hagrid croaks. I shiver in sadness at thinking what had happened the first time. I pull my head out of sight as Macnair's face appears at Hagrid's window, staring out at Buckbeak. Then we hear Fudge.
"We — er — have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I'll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign it. Macnair, you're supposed to listen too, that's procedure —"
Macnair's face vanishes from the window. It is now or never. "Wait here," Harry whispers to Hermione and me. "I'll do it."
"You're going to need help." I protest slipping out of the trees beside him. We vault the fence of the pumpkin patch and approach Buckbeak.
"It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall be executed on the sixth of June at sundown —"
Careful not to blink, Harry stares up into Buckbeak's fierce orange eyes once more and bows. Buckbeak sinks to his scaly knees and then stands up again. Harry begins to fumble with the knot of rope tying Buckbeak to the fence.
". . . sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the Committee's appointed executioner, Walden Macnair . . ."
"Come on, Buckbeak," I murmur, "come on, we're going to help you. Quietly . . . quietly . . ."
" . . . as witnessed below. Hagrid, you sign here. . . ."
Harry throws all his weight onto the rope, but Buckbeak has dug in his front feet.
"Well, let's get this over with," says the reedy voice of the Committee member from inside Hagrid's cabin. "Hagrid, perhaps it will be better if you stay inside —"
"No, I — I wan' ter be with him. . . . I don' wan' him ter be alone —" Footsteps echo from within the cabin.
"Buckbeak, move!" I hiss. I grab onto the rope as well and help Harry tug. We tug harder on the rope around Buckbeak's neck. The hippogriff begins to walk, rustling its wings irritably. We are still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid's back door.
"One moment, please, Macnair," comes Dumbledore's voice. "You need to sign too." The footsteps stop. We heave on the rope. Buckbeak snaps his beak and walks a little faster. Man, remind me to never get into a 'who can be more stubborn' contest with a hippogriff.
Hermione's white face is sticking out from behind a tree. "Harry, Jamie, hurry!" she mouths.
I can still hear Dumbledore's voice talking from within the cabin. We give the rope another wrench. Buckbeak breaks into a grudging trot. We have reached the trees. . . .
"Quick! Quick!" Hermione moans, darting out from behind her tree, seizing the rope too and adding her weight to make Buckbeak move faster. I look over my shoulder; we are now blocked from sight; we can't see Hagrid's garden at all.
"Stop!" I whisper to them. "They might hear us —" Hagrid's back door has opened with a bang. Harry, Hermione, Buckbeak, and I stand quite still; even the hippogriff seems to be listening intently.
Silence . . . then —
"Where is it?" says the reedy voice of the Committee member. "Where is the beast?"
"It was tied here!" says the executioner furiously. "I saw it! Just here!"
"How extraordinary," says Dumbledore. There is a note of amusement in his voice. That makes me wonder if he had this planned the whole time.
"Beaky!" says Hagrid huskily.
There is a swishing noise, and the thud of an axe. The executioner seems to have swung it into the fence in anger. And then comes the howling, and this time we can hear Hagrid's words through his sobs.
"Gone! Gone! Bless his little beak, he's gone! Musta pulled himself free! Beaky, yeh clever boy!" I grin in happiness knowing that my friend is no longer hurting.
Buckbeak starts to strain against the rope, trying to get back to Hagrid. The three of us tighten our grip and dig ourr heels into the forest floor to stop him.
"Someone untied him!" the executioner is snarling. "We should search the grounds, the forest —"
"Macnair, if Buckbeak has indeed been stolen, do you really think the thief will have led him away on foot?" says Dumbledore, still sounding amused. "Search the skies, if you will. . . . Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea. Or a large brandy."
"O' — o' course, Professor," says Hagrid, who sounds weak with happiness. "Come in, come in. . . ."
Harry, Hermione, and I listen closely. We hear footsteps, the soft cursing of the executioner, the snap of the door, and then silence once more.
"I can't believe we just did that!" I exclaim softly grinning at my friends and the rescued Hippogriff.
"Now what?" whispers Harry, looking around.
"We'll have to hide in here," says Hermione, who looks very shaken still. "We need to wait until they've gone back to the castle. Then we wait until it's safe to fly Buckbeak up to Sirius's window. He won't be there for another couple of hours. . . . Oh, this is going to be difficult. . . ."
She looks nervously over her shoulder into the depths of the forest. The sun is setting now.
"We're going to have to move," says Harry, thinking hard. "We've got to be able to see the Whomping Willow, or we won't know what's going on." I nod my head in agreement.
"As long as we don't run into Aragog and his family I'm golden." I reply. Harry and I shiver in unison at that thought. Hermione eyes us unsurely.
"Be grateful Hermione that you don't know." Harry tells her.
"Okay," sats Hermione, getting a firmer grip on Buckbeak's rope. "But we've got to keep out of sight, guys, remember. . . ."
We move around the edge of the forest, darkness falling thickly around us, until we are hidden behind a clump of trees through which we can make out the Willow.
"There's Ron!" says Harry suddenly.
A dark figure is sprinting across the lawn and its shout echoes through the still night air.
"Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —"
And then we see three more figures materialize out of nowhere. I watch Harry, Hermione, and myself chase after Ron. Then I see Ron dive.
"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"
"There's Sirius!" says Harry. The great shape of the dog has bounded out from the roots of the Willow. We see him bowl Harry over, then seize Ron. . . .
"This is totally unreal." I say quietly.
"Looks even worse from here, doesn't it?" says Harry, watching the dog pulling Ron into the roots. "Ouch — look, Jamie just got walloped by the tree — and so did we — this is weird —"
The Whomping Willow is creaking and lashing out with its lower branches; we can see ourselves darting here and there, trying to reach the trunk. And then the tree freezes.
"That is Crookshanks pressing the knot," says Hermione.
"And there we go . . . ," Harry mutters. "We're in."
"I must admit Hermione Crookshanks has turned out to be a good cat. Despite all the troubles he's given us this year." I tell her.
The moment we disappear, the tree begins to move again. Seconds later, we hear footsteps quite close by. Dumbledore, Macnair, Fudge, and the old Committee member are making their way up to the castle.
"Right after we'd gone down into the passage!" says Hermione. "If only Dumbledore had come with us . . ."
"Macnair and Fudge would've come too," Harry says bitterly. "I bet you anything Fudge would've told Macnair to murder Sirius on the spot. . . ."
We watch the four men climb the castle steps and disappear from view. For a few minutes the scene is deserted. Then —
"Here comes Lupin!" I say as we see another figure sprinting down the stone steps and hurrying towards the Willow. I look up at the sky. Clouds are obscuring the moon completely.
We watch Lupin seize a broken branch from the ground and prod the knot on the trunk. The tree stops fighting, and Lupin, too, disappears into the gap in its roots.
"If he'd only grabbed the Cloak," says Harry. "It's just lying there. . . ." He turns to us.
"If I just dashed out now and grabbed it, Snape'd never be able to get it and —"
"Harry, we mustn't be seen!"
"How can you stand this?" Harry asks Hermione, and me fiercely. "Just standing here and watching it happen?" He hesitates. "I'm going to grab the Cloak!"
"Harry, no!" Hermione quietly cries.
I seize the back of Harry's robes not a moment too soon. Just then, we hear a burst of song. It is Hagrid, making his way up to the castle, singing at the top of his voice, and weaving slightly as he walks. A large bottle is swinging from his hands.
"See?" Hermione whispers. "See what would have happened? We've got to keep out of sight! No, Buckbeak!"
The hippogriff is making frantic attempts to get to Hagrid again; I seize his rope too, straining to hold Buckbeak back. We watch Hagrid meander tipsily up to the castle. He is gone. Buckbeak stops fighting to get away. His head droops sadly. I pet his beak softly attempting to comfort him.
Barely two minutes later, the castle doors fly open yet again, and Snape comes charging out of them, running towards the Willow. Oh Merlin here we go again.
Harry's fists clench as we watch Snape skid to a halt next to the tree, looking around. He grabs the Cloak and holds it up.
"Get your filthy hands off it," Harry snarls under his breath.
"Shh!" I quiet him.
Snape seizes the branch Lupin had used to freeze the tree, prods the knot, and vanishes from view as he puts on the Cloak.
"So that's it," says Hermione quietly. "We're all down there . . . and now we've just got to wait until we come back up again. . . ."
She takes the end of Buckbeak's rope and ties it securely around the nearest tree, then sits down on the dry ground, arms around her knees.
"Harry, there's something I don't understand. . . . Why didn't the dementors get Sirius? I remember them coming, and then I think I passed out . . . there were so many of them. . . ." I say confusedly now having the time to think about it.
"That's what I've been wondering as well." Hermione says.
Harry and I sit down as well. Harry explains what he'd seen; how, as the nearest dementor had lowered its mouth to Harry's, a large silver something had come galloping across the lake and forced the dementors to retreat.
Hermione's and my mouths are slightly open by the time Harry has finished.
"But what was it?" Hermione asks.
"There's only one thing it could have been, to make the dementors go," says Harry. "A real Patronus. A powerful one."
"But who conjured it?" I question biting my lower lip in thought.
"Didn't you see what they looked like?" says Hermione eagerly. "Was it one of the teachers?"
"No," says Harry. "He wasn't a teacher."
"But it must have been a really powerful wizard, to drive all those dementors away. . . . If the Patronus was shining so brightly, didn't it light him up? Couldn't you see — ?" I ask.
"Yeah, I saw him," says Harry slowly. "But . . . maybe I imagined it. . . . I wasn't thinking straight. . . . I passed out right afterward. . . ."
"Who did you think it was?" Hermione grills.
"I think —" Harry swallows, knowing how strange this is going to sound. "I think it was my dad." Okay I was not expecting that one I have to admit.
I start biting my lower lip again in worry. "Harry, your dad's — well — dead," I say quietly.
"I know that," says Harry quickly.
"You think you saw his ghost?" Hermione asks.
"I don't know . . . no . . . he looked solid. . . ." He replies.
"But then —"
"Maybe I was seeing things," says Harry. "But . . . from what I could see . . . it looked like him. . . . I've got photos of him. . . ."
"I know it sounds crazy," says Harry flatly. He turns to look at Buckbeak, who is digging his beak into the ground, apparently searching for worms. I scoot closer to Harry.
"You know, its okay Harry. Sometimes I think that I see my parents as well… its hard not having ever really gotten to know them before they're taken from you." I tell him quietly. Harry looks up with me and gives me a soft grateful look. I reach out and give his hand a squeeze.
The leaves overhead rustle faintly in the breeze. The moon drifts in and out of sight behind the shifting clouds. Hermione sits with her face turned towards the Willow, waiting.
And then, at last, after over an hour . . .
"Here we come!" Hermione whispers.
We get to our feet. Buckbeak raises his head. We see Lupin, Ron, and Pettigrew clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the roots, followed by the unconscious Snape drifting weirdly upward. Next comes Harry, Hermione, Black, and me. Hermione is supporting me. They all begin to walk towards the castle.
My heart is starting to beat very fast. I glance up at the sky. Any moment now, that cloud is going to move aside and show the moon. . . .
"Guys," Hermione mutters as though she knows exactly what we are thinking, "we've got to stay put. We mustn't be seen. There's nothing we can do. . . ."
"So we're just going to let Pettigrew escape all over again. . . ." says Harry quietly.
"How do you expect to find a rat in the dark?" snaps Hermione. "There's nothing we can do! We came back to help Sirius. We're not supposed to be doing anything else!"
"All right!" Harry grumbles. The moon slides out from behind its cloud. We see the tiny figures across the grounds stop. Then we see movement —
"There goes Lupin," I whisper. "He's transforming —"
"Hermione, Jamie!" says Harry suddenly. "We've got to move!"
"We mustn't, I keep telling you —" Hermione starts.
"Not to interfere! Lupin's going to run into the forest, right at us!"
Hermione gasps. "Quick!" she moans, dashing to untie Buckbeak. "Quick! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide? The dementors will be coming any moment —"
"Back to Hagrid's!" Harry says. "It's empty now — come on!"
We run as fast as we can, Buckbeak cantering along behind us. We can hear the werewolf howling behind us. . . .
I seriously don't want to end up as a midnight snack for Professor Lupin, no matter how much more I like him rather than my other DADA professors.
The cabin is in sight; I skid to the door, wrench it open, and Hermione, Harry, and Buckbeak flash past me; I throw myself in after them and bolt the door. Fang the boarhound barks loudly.
"Shh, Fang, it's us!" says Hermione, hurrying over and scratching his ears to quieten him. "That was really close!" she says to Harry, and me.
"Yeah . . ." I sigh allowing myself to relax for the first time in a while.
Harry is looking out of the window. I join him. It is much harder to see what is going on from here. Buckbeak seems very happy to find himself back inside Hagrid's house. He lies down in front of the fire, folded his wings contentedly, and seems ready for a good nap.
We can't let that happen. "I think I'd better go outside again, you know," says Harry slowly. "I can't see what's going on — we won't know when it's time —"
Hermione looks up. Her expression is suspicious.
"I'm not going to try and interfere," says Harry quickly. "But if we don't see what's going on, how're we going to know when it's time to rescue Sirius?"
"Well . . . okay, then . . . I'll wait here with Buckbeak . . . but Harry, be careful — there's a werewolf out there — and the dementors —"
"Don't worry Mione, he won't do anything stupid, for I'm going to go with him. Can't let Boy Wonder here get killed now can we." I say shooting a meaningful look at my friend. Hermione sighs and shakes her head.
"I was afraid you were going to say that." She moans. With that we step out of the cabin.
We can hear yelping in the distance. That means the dementors are closing in on Sirius. . . . Harry, Hermione, and I would be running to him any moment. . . .
We stare out towards the lake, our hearts doing a kind of drumroll in our chests. . . .
"You want to find out who sent the patronus don't you." I ask Harry softly. He jumps and turns to shoot me a guilty look.
"I have to know if it was my Dad Jamie. You'd want to know to if you were in my shoes." Harry tells me earnestly. I sigh.
"I know that's why I'm not letting you do this alone. Friends stick together through these sort of things you know." I tell him with a crooked smile on my face.
And there are the dementors. They are emerging out of the darkness from every direction, gliding around the edges of the lake. . . . They are moving away from where we stand, to the opposite bank. . . . We won't have to get near them. . . .
Harry and I begin to run. I'm suddenly thankful to Wood and his crazy work out regime for all the running that I've had to do tonight.
The lake is coming nearer and nearer, but there is no sign of anyone. On the opposite bank, I can see tiny glimmers of silver — Harry's attempts at a Patronus —
There is a bush at the very edge of the water. We throw ourselves behind it, peering desperately through the leaves. On the opposite bank, the glimmers of silver are suddenly extinguished.
"Come on!" Harry mutters, staring about. "Where are you? Dad, come on —"
But no one comes. We raise our heads to look at the circle of dementors across the lake. One of them is lowering its hood. It is time for the rescuer to appear — but no one is coming to help this time —"
"Harry…" I start desperately.
Harry flings himself out from behind the bush and pulls out his wand. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yells.
And out of the end of his wand bursts, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. I screw up my eyes, trying to see what it was. It looks like a horse. It is galloping silently away from us, across the black surface of the lake. I see it lower its head and charge at the swarming dementors. . . . Now it is galloping around and around the black shapes on the ground, and the dementors are falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness. . . . They are gone.
"Oh my Merlin…" I breathe captivated by the sight before me. Harry's father hadn't saved us, Harry had.
The Patronus turns. It is cantering back towards Harry across the still surface of the water. It isn't a horse. It isn't a unicorn, either. It is a stag. It is shining brightly as the moon above . . . it is coming back to him. . . .
It stops on the bank. Its hooves make no mark on the soft ground as it stares at Harry with its large, silver eyes. Slowly, it bows its antlered head. And Harry realizes . . . "Prongs," he whispers. I come out from behind the bush and stand next to my friend.
"Harry you saved us, that was incredible!" I exclaim. Harry grins slightly as his patronus disappears.
Then, with a great leap of my heart, I hear hooves behind us — we whirl around and see Hermione dashing towards us, dragging Buckbeak behind her.
"What did you do?" she says fiercely. "You said you were only going to keep a lookout!"
"I just saved all our lives . . . ," says Harry. "Get behind here — behind this bush — I'll explain."
Hermione listens to what had just happened with her mouth open yet again.
"Did anyone see you?" She asks.
"Yes, haven't you been listening? I saw me but I thought I was my dad! It's okay!"
"Harry, I can't believe it. . . . You conjured up a Patronus that drove away all those dementors! That's very, very advanced magic. . . ."
I grin at them having a hard time imagining anyone else at the castle being able to pull of magic that advanced at our age.
"I knew I could do it this time," says Harry, "because I'd already done it. . . . Does that make sense?"
"I don't know — Harry, look at Snape!" I say suddenly.
Together we peer around the bush at the other bank. Snape has regained consciousness. He is conjuring stretchers and lifting the limp forms of Harry, Hermione, Black, and me onto them. A fifth stretcher, no doubt bearing Ron, is already floating at his side. Then, wand held out in front of him, he moves them away towards the castle.
"Right, it's nearly time," says Hermione tensely, looking at her watch. "We've got about forty-five minutes until Dumbledore locks the door to the hospital wing. We've got to rescue Sirius and get back into the ward before anybody realizes we're missing. . . ."
Well isn't this just going to be an easy job, ha! I think not! We wait, watching the moving clouds reflected in the lake, while the bush next to us whispered in the breeze. Buckbeak, bored, is ferreting for worms again.
"D'you reckon he's up there yet?" says Harry, checking his watch. I look up at the castle and begin counting the windows to the right of the West Tower.
"Look!" Hermione whispers. "Who's that? Someone's coming back out of the castle!"
I stare through the darkness. The man is hurrying across the grounds, towards one of the entrances. Something shiny glints in his belt.
"Macnair!" I say. "The executioner! He's gone to get the dementors! This is it, Hermione —"
Hermione puts her hands on Buckbeak's back and Harry gives her a leg up. He repeats the action with me. Then he places his foot on one of the lower branches of the bush and climbs up in front of me. He pulls Buckbeak's rope back over his neck and ties it to the other side of his collar like reins.
"Ready?" he whispers to Hermione and me. "You'd better hold on to me —" I grasp Harry around the middle, and Hermione does the same with me.
He nudges Buckbeak's sides with his heels. Buckbeak soars straight into the dark air. I strengthen my grip on Harry and grin feeling the wind rip through my hair. Not quite like a broom but still just as fun! Hermione is holding me very tight around the waist; I can hear her muttering, "Oh, no — I don't like this — oh, I really don't like this —"
Harry urges Buckbeak forward. We are gliding quietly towards the upper floors of the castle. . . . Harry pulled hard on the left-hand side of the rope, and Buckbeak turns. I am trying to count the windows flashing past —
"Whoa!" he says, pulling backward as hard as he can. Buckbeak slows down and we found ourselves at a stop, unless you counted the fact that we keep rising up and down several feet as the hippogriff beats his wings to remain airborne. This is so totally wicked! I'm never going to forget this as long as I live!
"He's there!" Harry says, spotting Sirius as we rise up beside the window. He reaches out, and as Buckbeak's wings fall, is able to tap sharply on the glass.
Black looks up. I see his jaw drop. He leaps from his chair, hurries to the window, and tries to open it, but it is locked.
"Stand back!" Hermione calls to him, and she takes out her wand, still gripping the back of me robes with her left hand.
"Alohomora!" The window springs open.
"How — how — ?" says Black weakly, staring at the hippogriff. I grin at the dumbfounded look on his face. I love it when adults underestimate us.
"Get on — there's not much time," I say, gripping Harry firmly. "You've got to get out of here — the dementors are coming — Macnair's gone to get them."
Black places a hand on either side of the window frame and heaves his head and shoulders out of it. It is very lucky he is so thin. In seconds, he has managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak's back and pull himself onto the hippogriff behind Hermione.
"Okay, Buckbeak, up!" says Harry, shaking the rope. "Up to the tower — come on!"
The hippogriff gives one sweep of its mighty wings and we are soaring upward again, high as the top of the West Tower. Buckbeak lands with a clatter on the battlements, and Harry, Hermione, and I slide off him at once. Okay I'm going to be sore for a little while from that ride.
"Sirius, you'd better go, quick," Harry pants. "They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you're gone." Buckbeak paws the ground, tossing his sharp head.
"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" croaks Sirius.
"He's going to be okay. He's still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick — go —" But Black is still staring down at Harry.
"How can I ever thank —"
"GO!" Harry, Hermione, and I shout together. Black wheels Buckbeak around, facing the open sky.
"We'll see each other again," he says. "You are — truly your father's son, Harry. . . ."
He squeezes Buckbeak's sides with his heels. Harry, Hermione, and I jump back as the enormous wings rise once more. . . . The hippogriff takes off into the air. . . . He and his rider become smaller and smaller as we gaze after them . . . then a cloud drifts across the moon. . . . They are gone.
"Well that wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be." I say heaving a relieved breath.
I should really learn by now to keep my mouth shut.