Filch had asked Harry to take care of the seventh floor today. He was enjoying making the Gryffindors suspicious while he nonchalantly polished the portrait frames near the entrance to their Tower. A few came out and asked him what he was doing. They didn't believe him when he told them he was cleaning.
This was probably because of the whistling. No innocent Slytherin had ever whistled innocently, and they certainly didn't stop and lean in slightly when a Gryffindor was about to say the password to the Tower.
There were perks to working for Filch, and fun like this was one of them. Harry eventually moved to another part of the floor when Ron and Dudley showed up. Ron's ears turned red; a sure sign of danger, and Dudley gave Harry a suspicious glare. Harry had been on Dudley's good side at Hogwarts for the most part, but despite Hermione's managing of him and despite his lack of practice, Harry didn't doubt that Dudley could still throw a good punch. Defending the fortress was just the sort of excuse he could get away with, too.
Harry wasn't using many cleaning spells today. They were all well and good, usually, but sometimes you just had to scrub something clean, and when Filch always seemed more cheerful when he realised Harry had been cleaning by hand. A few of the frames on this floor looked like they hadn't been touched in years, and Harry had nothing better to do anyway, aside from homework.
According to Filch, there were broom closets on each floor filled to the brim with cleaning supplies, and apparently one of the closets on this floor had a powerful replenishing charm on it, if Harry could only find it. Filch had said it was near the troll-ballet tapestry, but Harry hadn't seen a closet, and he'd been through the hall several times.
Oh wait. There it was.
"He smells like death."
"What is it saying?"
"Er, hang on. He won't hurt you, I promise."
"Of course he won't hurt me. I will bite him if he comes near me."
"That's really not necessary. I think-"
"Potter. What is the snake saying?" Snape glared between Harry and the snake. Snape had ordered it on Harry's advice, but it didn't want to cooperate. "In order for learning to occur, you must first translate."
Harry nodded, exasperated. "I know, but. Well. He doesn't like you." Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry, who shrugged. "He says you smell like death."
Harry had spent hours with Anthony, putting together some kind of lesson plan for Snape, and the snake was ruining it all by being uncooperative. The spell Anthony gave him that actually allowed humans to speak languages not suited to their vocal cords (similar to an all purpose translation spell in that it didn't matter what you were trying to speak as long as you knew) was nonverbal and long. Harry was mildly jealous that Anthony already knew a few nonverbal spells, and questioned him extensively about it. He had not been able to perform the spell himself, but he had no doubt of Snape's abilities. If only they could get that far.
Snape closed his eyes for a moment, lips pressed tightly together, and raised his wand to cast a purifying charm over his person. "Is that better?" he asked the snake. Harry translated.
"He no longer smells," the snake confirmed. Harry nodded to Snape, relieved. "That does not mean that he did not already smell like death. I do not trust him."
Harry sighed. "Maybe we should switch Parseltongue to Monday, so that you don't smell like Potions ingredients while you talk to him."
"Potter! How many times must I tell you to cease flinging yourself about my office?"
Harry pulled himself to his feet, panting. He had jumped out of the way of a curse, and despite Snape's admonition, it was a difficult curse to avoid and he was proud of himself for evading it. Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry's unapologetic demeanour.
"Impedimentia," he cast, and when Harry dodged out of the way, "Glacialis solum."
Harry slipped on the newly formed ice and fell flat on his back with a yelp. Snape stood over him, eyes gleaming.
"Desist flinging yourself about my office," he enunciated, and then he showed Harry the summoning charm and conjured up several rocks for Harry to practice blocking with.
The mail order snake was gone; in his place a cobra eyed Harry suspiciously. Harry eyed it right back.
"Where did the other snake go?"
Snape ran a hand down the polished scales of his new cobra. "It tried to bite me." He looked up at Harry, dark eyes narrowed with darker amusement. "The hospital wing has a fresh batch of boil ointment and bruise salve."
Harry blinked several times and tried not to feel horrified at the thought of a snake he'd spoken to just last week being chopped up for potions ingredients. "Erm, right," he said. "Let me just explain to this one what we're trying to do, then."
"Hello," he hissed. The snake shifted slightly.
"Good evening," she answered. "Do you want something?"
"Yes," Harry told her. "I'd like you to help me teach the dark man your language."
The cobra blinked lazily at Snape. "Inform him that I will agree if he tells me what it is he was feeding me earlier."
Harry paused. "What were you feeding her earlier?" he asked. Snape had been watching them intently, and stood, reaching for the shelf behind him. "Chopped goat spleen," he said, showing the snake the jar he'd selected. Harry grimaced slightly and translated this.
"She says to keep them coming," he said, and tried very hard to keep his dinner down when Snape opened the jar and selected another piece.
"First lesson," Harry said, covering his nose surreptitiously. "Food. It's rather important. Repeat after me..."
Harry's new Firebolt was waiting for him at his third duelling lesson with Snape.
"It's alright, then?" he asked, examining it with excitement. It looked as good as it had when he first unwrapped it.
"We found no sabotage," Snape said, watching him run awed hands over the broom. "After much discussion with the staff, it was decided that you must have a very good friend somewhere. I would suggest you keep an eye out for possible admirers with the gold to fund such a gift. It does not do to be unaware of your benefactors."
Harry nodded, and nearly jumped out of his skin at the curse that came flying his way a second later. He parried the attack and glared at Snape with all his might.
"You must be prepared to protect more than yourself," said Snape ruthlessly as he continued his attempt to inflict damage on Harry's new broom. "Keep in mind the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match that approaches. Mine will not be the only displeasure you will face if you allow that broom to come to harm."
Fortunately, Harry held his own against Snape, the git, and the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match went off without a hitch. The other seeker, a girl named Cho Chang, didn't quite know how to deal with Harry on a Firebolt. They won by a landslide.
January faded into February, which faded into March. As the weather got warmer, students celebrated the absence of the chill from both dementors and snow by going outside more often. Harry and Hermione were no different, as Harry had convinced her to visit Hagrid with him. Draco, who had been Harry's first choice, had seemed leery of the idea when Harry asked.
"Are you insane?" he had said. "Do I look insane? Now go away. I have a very important Charms essay due tomorrow."
He had been playing Exploding Snap with Blaise at the time. Harry had taken the hint. He'd been meaning to talk to Hermione lately, anyway.
"You look exhausted," he commented as they strolled past the Quidditch pitch. Bright yellow dots zoomed around above their heads and Hermione rubbed at her eyes distractedly.
"I'm alright," she said. "I just need to get back into the swing of things again. Christmas threw me off."
Harry watched her with worry. "Hermione, we've been back at school for months. How many of you are there right now, anyway?"
"Just the one," she said, giving him a faint smile. "I really only use it for classes. Otherwise I'd be sixteen before fourth year."
Harry cocked his head, curious. "How old are you now, anyway?"
She bit her lip, apparently doing complicated maths in her head.
"Not much older," she said after a moment. "Maybe a few weeks by now. Like I said, I only use it for classes, and that's only a few hours a day, and then only on weekdays."
"Huh," Harry said, and they walked in silence for a few moments. "In that case, maybe you should add an extra hour a day. You know, for a nap."
Hermione looked at him askance. "I couldn't do that! I don't have it so I can skive off and nap!"
Harry shrugged. If he was talking to Pansy, Harry could say a few choice words about her new stress lines (saying the word 'wrinkles' would have Pansy throwing him off the Astronomy Tower for real, never mind that she was only thirteen) and all would be well. But then, Hermione wasn't as girly as Pansy.
He would try anyway.
"The stress is aging you more than the time is," he said, indicating the bags under her eyes. "You don't have it to drive you into an early grave, either. A nap every now and again wouldn't hurt."
Hermione sighed. They had reached Hagrid's hut now, and were standing in front of his door, talking. "I suppose you might be right," she said, reluctance in her every movement. Harry grinned. It wasn't often that he heard those words coming from Hermione Granger. This moment was a thing to savour.
Harry and his friends were relaxing in the common room one night when it happened. Blaise's head jerked up and they stared at each other for a moment.
"The alarms," Harry breathed, and dashed up to his room in an instant, Blaise directly behind him. They pulled out the Map and Harry tapped his wand against it.
"Sirius Black," he said. He and Anthony had taken some time to look over the Map that Christmas, and had discovered a feature that allowed you to locate someone by simply telling the Map who you were looking for. It was incredibly useful, especially in situations like these.
Except when it didn't work.
"Sirius Black," he repeated with more force, looking down at the Map expectantly. Nothing happened.
"Never mind that, Harry, he may have a way to block it," Blaise said. "We know where he should be, anyway." They located the statue of the hump-backed witch, but Sirius Black was nowhere in sight. The alarms had been tripped accidentally before, usually by the Weasley twins, but Harry had not seen this name since the last Black break in.
Peter Pettigrew.
"We have to-"
"Get Snape." Blaise said firmly. They had a short staring contest, but standing there uselessly made Harry feel like there were centipedes crawling up his spine. He gave in almost immediately.
"Yes, alright, fine," Harry said from between gritted teeth. "But we're not telling him about the Map."
"The alarms and your snake will do just fine," Blaise said, sweeping out of the room. Harry followed quickly, ignoring Draco and Pansy's questions as they passed through the common room. They could be filled in later. Right now, time was of the essence, lest Pettigrew get away.
"If you have dragged me from my work," Snape warned, his entire manner foreboding as they made their way toward the third floor. "If you have dragged me all the way up here only to find some idiotic student caught in your traps, there will be dire punishment. Do you understand, Mr. Potter? Mr. Zabini?"
They both nodded and Harry hoped with all his might that Pettigrew had not already escaped. He'd brought his snake with him to corroborate the story, and as they neared the corridor where the statue stood, Harry hissed a question to her.
"Is he still there?"
"The creature has not left," she confirmed. She had called Pettigrew 'the creature' every time Harry asked so far.
They reached a bend in the corridor very near the statue, and Snape stopped them. "Wait here," he demanded, and pulled out his wand as he stepped around the corner.
Naturally, Harry and Blaise poked their heads around to watch behind his back.
The struggling figure froze when Snape appeared, only to begin struggling all the more fiercely a second later. Snape had frozen as well, his wand faltering for just a moment.
It was a moment too long. Pettigrew's struggles were born of more than just fear. There was a wand on the floor near his hands, and when he finally managed to grasp it, he vanished almost immediately.
Harry clamped a hand over his own mouth to keep from shouting. Pettigrew transformed into a rat and took off down the corridor, dodging Snape's snarled curses and managing to escape through a crack in the wall.
Snape was even less pleased with this development than Harry was. He swore fiercely, turning on his heel and marching down the hall. Blaise made eye contact with Harry, eyes wide, and they hurried to keep up with him. Snape continued swearing with virulent anger all the way to what turned out to be Professor Lupin's office.
His banging brought Lupin out into the corridor in moments, and Snape marched right past him, where he stood in the middle of the office with an expression so ugly that Harry was surprised when Lupin allowed them entrance as well.
"Peter Pettigrew was a rat animagus," he spat, once Lupin had closed the door and given Snape his full, alarmed attention. This pronouncement caused yet more alarm on Lupin's features, and he nodded.
"Yes," he said, brow furrowed. "What has happened, Severus?"
"He's not dead," Snape snarled. "You don't seem particularly surprised. Perhaps we should discuss the situation further with the Headmaster."
Despite what Snape claimed, as far as Harry was concerned, Lupin looked like he was about to pass out from shock.
"Not...not dead?" he repeated faintly as Snape crossed the room and held open the door expectantly. "What...how? How do you know?"
"I saw him," Snape said coldly, still waiting for Lupin to move. "Next to the statue of the hump-backed witch. A secret passage, as I'm certain you're aware? I suggest we find out what Albus thinks of this situation."
He held the door open wider for Lupin, who finally moved. Harry and Blaise followed. Harry, at least, was determined to be involved until he was told to go away.
The shock wore off on the way to Dumbledore's office, and something finally occurred to Harry. "The creature lives in the dormitory I had you investigate, doesn't it?" he asked his snake. The snake responded in the affirmative, and Snape paused in giving the password to Dumbledore's office.
"What did you just ask it?" he inquired, watching Harry with angry eyes. Harry was aware that Snape wasn't angry at him, but it was still intimidating to be under that stare. He answered quickly. "Pettigrew has been living with the Weasleys. He was Ron's pet rat. He's been living in Ron's dorm; my snake recognised the scent."
Lupin made a horrified sound, muffled by his hand.
"Liquorice wands," Snape said, ignoring Lupin. The gargoyle sprang aside and they soon arrived in Dumbledore's office.
Snape explained the situation to a grave Dumbledore, and Lupin listened with horror. Harry felt incredibly bad for him, especially when Snape suggested that all three of the old Marauders were conspiring together, and Lupin was the inside man. It was this accusation that finally spurred Lupin out of his silence.
"That's absurd," he snapped, and then proceeded to ignore Snape entirely. "Professor Dumbledore," he said. "If Peter is still alive, that sheds doubt on Sirius' guilt."
Harry noted that this was the first time he'd ever heard Lupin refer to his old friend as anything but 'Black'. Dumbledore's nod was sombre.
"That is something to consider," he agreed. "And you were aware, Remus, of Peter's animagus form?"
Lupin looked down at his feet, shamed. Harry found it fascinating that Dumbledore could cause that reaction in people that caused the same reaction in Harry. The headmaster clearly was not to be trifled with.
"They were all animagi," Lupin admitted. "Peter was a rat, James was a stag, and Sirius was a dog."
Harry knew Lupin had said something important after 'James was a stag', but he didn't care. He was too busy imagining his father as a stag. Pettigrew was clearly Wormtail, and James couldn't have been Padfoot as a stag. Which meant Harry's father must have been Prongs.
"How interesting that you have kept this pertinent information to yourself this entire time, Lupin," Snape said dangerously. "Had someone known of Pettigrew's form, never mind Black's, perhaps he would have been caught much sooner than this, don't you agree?"
Dumbledore held up a hand. Snape paused in his accusations and waited as Dumbledore considered Harry and Blaise. "Before we continue this conversation, I must ask," he said. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Zabini. Why is it that you felt the need to lay traps around that particular statue?"
"We..." Harry said, flustered at the unexpected question and trying to hide it. He did not want to give away the existence of the Map. "We knew Black had broken in, and we knew Filch wasn't aware of that particular passage. He was watching everywhere else."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Far be it from you to inform Filch of a secret passage," he said, sounding amused. "I will speak to Mr. Weasley in the morning. In the meantime, why don't you boys head back to your common room? Curfew is nearly upon us."
And with that, Harry and Blaise were ushered unceremoniously out of the office.