I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.

Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.

Chapter Thirty Two: Enemies and Friends

Harry reacted first.

"Stupefy!"

The red jet of light missed its mark by a hair as Black ducked out of the way. Crookshanks leapt at Harry, knocking the holly wand from his grip and sending it rolling across the floor. Black dove for it.

"No!"

"Don't you dare—!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The apple wand was ripped from Moon's hand and landed in Black's gnarled one. Dawn had gotten on her feet, leaning on the bedframe for support; the bite mark on her leg was bleeding.

"You can't believe that you can come out of this alive," she threatened. Black's hand twitched; the holly wand flicking between his three opponents.

"Don't have to," he said, his voice gravelly from disuse.

Dawn gripped her purse, her fingers fumbling with the latch for the smallest pocket. "If you want to kill us—"

"There'll only be one murder here tonight," Black said, his face splitting into a mad grin.

Harry lurched beside her, and Moon gripped his arm tightly. He was practically shaking from fury.

"Why's that?" he spat. "You didn't care how many Muggles you killed when you murdered Pettigrew. What's with the change? Gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry," Moon said cautiously, "I know how angry you are right now—"

"Do you?" he retorted, and she could hear the anger directed at her. "Do you know what it's like to be standing in the room with the man that killed your parents?"

"Voldemort—"

"He sold them to Voldemort—he was the Secret Keeper—he killed my mum and dad!"

It wasn't a conscious decision to let him go, but Moon's grip slackened just as Harry lunged at Black. He had forgotten, or he didn't care, that he was smaller and weaker than the man and that he didn't have a wand while Black had two; he was completely consumed by rage. His fist CRACKED as it connected with Black's head; his free hand grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it to point the wands away from him. They both fell against the wall, crashing onto the floor.

"Harry, don't!" Moon yelled. There wasn't anything she could do, if she joined the fight she could hit Harry or get stunned—a jet of red light missed Harry's ear—and she didn't have her wand. Harry was punching Black without mercy, but the convict's free hand found his throat. She shrieked, immediately searching for something, anything, to help her friend. Her hands found her bag, still hanging from her shoulder.

Moon ripped open her bag, looking for a pokéball, and swiping it from the rest.

"Stop them, and keep that man down!"

Lycanroc bounded out from the flash of light. The wolf clawed at Black's outstretched hand, freeing Harry a split second before he pushed the Gryffindor student back. Moon caught him as he stumbled into her; his face was red from the lack of air. Lycanroc gnashed his teeth near Black's face, his paws pinning the man's arms and legs against the wooden floor. Black struggled, the wands falling from his grip. The two students ran and grabbed their respective wands, pointing them at Black's head.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he croaked, sounding too soft for a mass murderer.

"You killed my parents," Harry said hoarsely. "You took my family away from me."

Black's eyes were distant, staring through Harry instead of at him. "It's my fault their dead, I'll claim responsibility for that. But you don't understand. You'll regret this if you don't hear my side—"

"Why should I listen to you?" Harry seethed, his hand tightening around his wand.

"No one knows except for me," Black said, his voice suddenly more alert and urgent. "No one understands what actually happened—"

"I understand perfectly," Harry replied, his voice shaking. Black's head shook, looking madder than ever as his matted hair caught in the floorboards.

"You don't know—"

"You don't know what happened either!" Harry yelled. "You don't know how my dad tried to give us time to get away! You don't know how my mum begged Voldemort to kill her instead! You don't know what it's like to relive that every single night!"

A loud purr cut him off; Crookshanks had crawled underneath Lycanroc and settled on Black's stomach.

"Get off of him," Harry ordered, his voice lower and rougher from his rant. "Crookshanks, move away."

But Crookshanks, stubborn as ever, only meowed and rested his chin on the filthy prisoner robes covering Black's undersized frame. Lycanroc nudged Crookshanks, but the cat had hooked his claws in the robes and would not budge. Harry's hand wavered, the wand pointed at Black slowly turning towards the floor as the need for revenge drained from him. His fury was being replaced by exhaustion.

"Wands away you two," a cool voice ordered. "You've done your fair share of the work."

Dawn was leaning against the nearest bed post, her hair smoothed back and her dress unrumpled. A Dusk Ball was held in one hand; the other gripping the bedframe for balance. She looked at the two teenagers evenly and nodded her head towards the wall opposite the door. Moon slowly lowered her wand, her other hand gripping Harry's shoulder as she pulled him away from Black. He didn't resist.

"Now then," Dawn said smoothly, her gaze shifting to the man pinned under Lycanroc. "You've caused a number of headaches for the Ministry with your escape from Azkaban. There's a large reward for the person who captures you, and I do believe Cornelius Fudge gave the Dementors permission to perform the Kiss if you ever crossed their path. I saw a few of those creatures in the distance on my way over to Professor Hagrid's—I doubt it will be hard to get their attention once we're outside this place."

Dawn let go of the bedframe and made her way over to Black, her injured leg dragging behind her. She kneeled beside his head; he was staring at her with terrified grey eyes, his breathing laboured.

"But I won't call them on you," she said softly. "Not until I've gotten my answers."

"What?" Harry said, stunned.

"Dawn," Moon warned, "Black's an escaped convict."

"And he's a mass murderer and he's Voldemort's right hand and he escaped to kill you, Harry Potter," Dawn said, a disbelieving note threading through her words. "Everyone 'knows' that, but I don't believe that that assessment is entirely correct anymore."

"What?" Harry repeated, his hand tightening around his wand again. "Why do you think that?"

"He had the perfect opportunity to drag you down here and kill you, but he took me instead. It's impossible for him to know who I am; there's no reason he would want to kill me. Expecting you to follow him would be a gamble—an asinine one if you're the target—and as you said, only killing one of us would be out of character if he killed those Muggles along with Pettigrew. Even when you were fighting, he was only trying to subdue you, not kill you."

Dawn met Black's eyes, her own blue ones cold and distant even as the gears in her head were turning. "You want to explain everything to us? I'll give you one chance, that and no more. If you lie to me, or attempt to attack us…" she spun the Dusk Ball in her hand, and stretched her arm back to give the pokémon the space it needed to appear. "Darkrai, stand guard."

A shudder ran down Moon's spine as the nightmare pokémon was released. It's appearance was similar to a Dementor's, but instead of being covered by a hood, its head was unguarded, allowing her to see the electric blue eyes and the hair-like smoke that trailed from its scalp. It remained in mid-air behind Dawn.

"If you waste this chance, I'll show you a power far more terrifying than any Dementor," Dawn said heavily. Her eyes broke away from Black's to find Moon's. "Would you mind calling off Lycanroc for the time being?" she asked calmly, as though she hadn't threatened a man's life.

"Come here, boy," Moon said softly. Lycanroc looked at her briefly before levelling his nose with Black's and, with a warning snarl, crawled off of the man towards his trainer. Crookshanks stood up and stretched his back, sauntering his way to the students. Black was still sprawled on the floor; his mouth cracked open in disbelief; his chest shuddering with uneven breaths; his eyes flickering between Darkrai and Dawn, not knowing which one was more of a threat.

"Well?" Dawn lilted. "Do you wish to lie on the floor gaping like a Magikarp, Sirius? Or do you want to explain your side of the story?"

He pushed himself into a sitting position, his eyes lingering on Darkrai for a moment before he looked at his hands, resigned.

"It's a long story."

"One you were eager to tell earlier," Dawn remarked. "Explain as much as you can, we aren't in a rush."

"It—everything started in our first year of Hogwarts," Black said, not looking at anyone. "I was Sorted into Gryffindor, and I shared a dormitory with three other boys; Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and your dad," he said, turning toward Harry with the last two words. Moon noticed that his eyes were misty. He looked away.

"We were all fast friends. We helped each other with school, bullies, and any other problem that came our way. Back then, we were unbreakable.

"But someone was keeping a secret," he said, his yellow teeth pulling at the skin around his lip. "One that he was too afraid to share, 'cause he thought we'd get him kicked out. As if we hadn't spent the first year as his best friend."

"You mean Professor Lupin?" Moon interrupted. Black's mouth quirked up in a mock smile.

"Knew he'd be a teacher someday…" he muttered, glancing at Moon with a raised eyebrow. "You figured out his secret, then?"

"In a sense, not that it'll matter much now," she answered. Black stared in confusion. "That's off-topic. Continue."

He nodded, fingers tapping an unknown rhythm. "We wanted to help Remus, in any way possible. We came up with a plan that involved the three of us becoming Animagi."

"My dad was an Animagus?" Harry asked, his resolve to not listen to a word of what Black was saying breaking.

"He was a stag," Black offered. Moon smiled; the apple didn't fall far from the tree, if Harry's Patronus was any indicator. "I'm a dog, as you saw, and Pettigrew… he is a rat.

"We never registered with the Ministry," he continued. "The war was just picking up, and we thought that having a trick up our collective sleeve would come in handy. Dumbledore didn't even figure it out, even with the nicknames we used…"

"Nicknames?" Dawn queried.

"I'm guessing you mean Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," Moon said with a smile. That drew confused looks from everyone in the room.

"You mean like the map?" Harry asked.

"You have the map?" Black asked, alert.

"It's how we found out Dawn was here in the first place," Harry answered. Something almost proud and almost sad crossed Black's face.

"Of course you got hold of the map. James would've wanted you causing as much mischief as we did."

"Again, that is off-topic," Dawn said, and a shadow fell across Black's face.

"We were all working against Voldemort, but things weren't going well. Every raid, every surprise attack, every secret meeting, the Death Eaters—Voldemort's followers—had the upper hand. It wasn't a stretch to think there was a spy among us. When Dumbledore came to us and said that Voldemort was targeting James and Lily and that they needed to go into hiding, I knew we had to do something extra to keep them safe."

A forced laugh escaped from his throat. "I thought for sure that Remus was the spy. He was always away for weeks, never being straight about where he'd been. So when we came up with the plan, I went to the rat instead, thinking that he'd be the best choice." His eyes focused on the purse Dawn was holding. "Dumbledore insisted that the Potter's hide with the Fidelius Charm—hide their location in another person's soul, in a way that the secret can only be given out willingly by the keeper—but he couldn't force them to pick a certain Secret Keeper. I was the obvious choice. Too obvious, for my liking. I convinced James to switch to the rat at the last moment."

"You weren't the Secret Keeper," Harry said flatly.

"What's the point in having a Secret Keeper if everyone knows who it is?" Black asked rhetorically. "No, everyone would have known if it was me—everyone did think it was me. No one thought that Pettigrew had been the Secret Keeper. Not even Dumbledore. Not even Remus."

"You said you killed my parents," Harry stated, anger creeping into his tone.

"I was the one to suggest switching to the rat," Black said hoarsely. "It's my fault that they're dead."

"What happened after you switched Secret Keepers?" Dawn prodded.

"We had Pettigrew stay in a hiding place. I was going to check on him that night, but he wasn't there. There were no signs of a struggle—it was too clean—and I knew he had left willingly. When I heard what happened," his voice broke, "I went to Godric's Hollow. Hagrid was there. He said that Dumbledore ordered him to bring Harry to his aunt's place; I couldn't convince him otherwise, so I offered him my motorbike before going after Pettigrew.

"I cornered him on the street when he started shouting how I betrayed James and Lily," he said bitterly. "He pulled out a knife and hacked off his finger before blowing up the street and everyone nearby. He transformed into a rat and went into the sewer to join the rest of his kind, leaving me to deal with the aftermath."

"They said that you were laughing," Harry pressed. A bitter grin crossed the older man's face.

"I just got outsmarted by an inept excuse for a wizard, two of my best friends were dead, my godson was taken from me, and I was being carted off to Azkaban," he explained with a shrug. "Laughing seemed appropriate when the universe had just screwed me over."

"That still doesn't explain why you went after me," Dawn said.

Black's head lolled as he pointed at the expensive purse in her hands. "You have Pettigrew with you."

"What? Scabbers?" Moon said incredulously. "You're expecting us to believe Peter Pettigrew's been hiding with the Weasleys this whole time?"

"I know what he looks like," Black stressed. "I saw him—here, look," he reached into his robes and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, shoving it into Dawn's hand. "On the boy's shoulder, when his family won that raffle. Look!"

Dawn smoothed out the newspaper clipping and scanned it. "It's Scabbers. What else am I supposed to see?"

"Look closer, at his paw."

"His paws are—wait," she paused, "his toe is missing."

"Scabbers could have lost a toe anywhere," Harry said, but it sounded like he was reaching for explanations.

"How long has the rat been with your friend?" Black asked, his eyes intense.

"Ron's had him since first year, but he was with Percy before that…" Harry answered, becoming less and less certain that Black was a madman. "He started getting ill back in the summer, just after you broke out."

"He must've known I was after him," Black said.

"And Ron thought it was the cat," Moon drawled. Crookshanks purred, his bottle brush tail held aloft.

"That cat—Crookshanks, right?—is smarter than other animals," Black said. "He knew I wasn't a dog, and I bet he knew that Pettigrew isn't actually a rat. I eventually managed to communicate with him and tell him what I was after. He tried bringing the rat to me—but that failed, so he tried to get me to the rat. He stole a list of passwords for me, but at that point Pettigrew was missing. Must've bitten himself and left the blood on the sheets, faking his death worked before, after all."

"So you saw Dawn putting Scabbers—Pettigrew—into her bag, and went after her?" Moon asked. Black nodded.

"I needed to get at him—I still need to get him," he said, turning to Dawn. "Give him to me."

"Do you plan on killing him straight away?" Dawn asked.

"Yes."

"I don't think I can allow that."

"What?" Black snarled, sounding like the large dog he was before. "Why not?"

"Well, first of all, I would like to hear Pettigrew's side of the story. Even if it is a pack of lies, it could shed some light on the details you missed. Second, if what you say is true, then I believe we have a high chance of getting you pardoned if we bring Pettigrew in alive."

"You think Fudge will just let me go free after all this," he said bitterly.

"I think he won't have a choice," Dawn replied. "You do, after all, have three very important witnesses. The Boy-Who-Lived, and two champions—positions equal to the Minister of Magic. He'll have a difficult time ignoring us."

Harry gave Moon an inquisitive look. "You never said anything about that."

"It wasn't important at the time," she said with a shrug. She faced the Sinnoh Champion. "He's still a rat. How do we convince anyone that he's Peter Pettigrew?"

"There's a spell that will force him back into a human," Black answered. "I'll do it, but I need a wand first," he said, looking at Dawn expectantly.

"I don't have a wand," she said. Confusion passed over his face; his mouth moving to ask why someone would be at Hogwarts without a wand when he was cut off.

"Here, take mine."

Moon looked at Harry; he was holding his wand out for Black to take. Black was as surprised as she was.

"Just for the spell," Harry stated. "I'm taking it back afterwards. And if you try anything funny," he stopped, nodding towards the dark presence on the other end of the room. Black nodded in return, understanding the implication. His claw-like hand grasped the holly wand; Harry released it.

"Put him on the bed," Black directed. "Hold him there; he'll try to run."

Dawn unzipped her purse and reached in, withdrawing a squeaking, frightened Scabbers. She held him firmly despite his writhing, and sat him on the bed, still keeping both hands on him to stop him from escaping. Black raised the wand, a spark of blue-white light flying from the end.

The rat squealed and twisted. His form grew from a rat's into a human's; limbs sprouted from where his paws had been; his nose went from the end of his face to the centre; his squeaking turned into shrill sobs—although they still sounded like a rat.

The man that had appeared looked like a shrunken version of an adult. He was shorter than Moon was, and he had the appearance of someone who had lost a lot of weight in a short period of time. His skin was grubby and dirty. His head was covered by thin, practically colourless hair, except for the bald patch. His face was still rat-like; his nose was small and pointy; his small watery eyes darting everywhere. He was looking between the door and the window desperately.

"Well, hello there," Dawn said lightly, her manicured nails digging into his shoulders. "You must be Peter Pettigrew. I have to say, you look surprisingly healthy for a dead man."

"Please…" he said, his voice holding onto the squeakiness from his previous form. "Please, Sirius… my old friend…"

Black jolted, and Moon went forward and grabbed him by the wrist. He paused to give her a questioning look. She pulled the wand from his hand and gave it back to Harry. Black didn't stop her.

"Why did you do all of this Peter?" Dawn asked vaguely.

"He—Sirius went after me," Pettigrew said, his hands shaking as he pointed at Black. His index finger was missing. "Right after He Who Must Not Be Named killed James and Lily—he tried to kill me then—he's still trying to kill me!"

"He's not going to kill you," Dawn said gently, a chilling overtone to her words. "After all, we still need our answers."

"Answers?" Pettigrew said shakily. Dawn's hands dug further into his skin as she stood up and moved off the bed, drawing a small shriek from the man.

"Sirius has been generous with his explanations today—I wonder if you'll be the same?"

"You—you can't listen to him!" Pettigrew cried. "He's mad! He was mad even before Azkaban!"

"Terribly sorry to contradict you, but he seems rather sane to me," Dawn said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"He tried to murder me in cold blood, and killed all those Muggles at the same time," the small man argued. "I had to disappear. I knew he'd come after me someday, to try to kill me again!"

"You knew he would break out of Azkaban?" Dawn queried, an eyebrow raised. "That is an odd assumption, seeing as he was the first."

"He was the Dark Lord's right hand man! He has dark powers we can only imagine—who knows what tricks You Know Who shared with him!"

A snort, followed by a hollow laugh, came from Black. "Voldemort, teach me tricks?"

Pettigrew flinched horribly, as though he had been struck.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" Black remarked. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you now, are they?"

"I don't understand—what are you talking about, Sirius?" Pettigrew mumbled, his breathing fast and sharp. His face was covered in sweat.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years; you've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… they all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them… I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potter's on your information… and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways… if they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter—"

"I—don't know—what you're saying," Pettigrew said, his voice sharp and shrill. His watery eyes darted between the three witnesses in the room, searching for someone to help. "You—none of you can believe this ridiculousness, can you?"

"Don't know," Moon said, already knowing that Pettigrew's defence was weaker than Black's, "I can't understand why you would hide as a rat if you were innocent…"

"I am innocent, but I was scared!" Pettigrew bawled. "I knew Voldemort's supporters were everywhere; surely they'd be after me for putting their spy in prison—Sirius Black!"

"Why not ask for help?" Dawn said politely, throwing a sharp look at Black when he growled. "You were hailed as a hero, bravely sacrificing yourself to take down Sirius Black. Surely Dumbledore would have helped you if you had asked."

"I couldn't risk it," Pettigrew stressed. "It would only take one slip for me to wind up dead. I was lucky to get away the first time—"

Black snorted, cutting him off.

"You were always lucky, weren't you?" Black said savagely. "You never got injured on the missions we got sent on—stunned at worst, not so much as a scratch on you. You were god-awful at duelling during school, how do you explain your sudden ability to avoid being hit? Voldemort must've told his followers to leave you be… couldn't risk his source of information, could he?"

"This again?!" Pettigrew yelped. "Me? A spy? Honestly, the idea… completely far-fetched…"

"Lily and James only made you Secret Keeper because I suggested it," Black spat so forcefully that Pettigrew recoiled. "I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream that they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… but you always did crawl over to the bigger wizards to protect you, didn't you Peter? It was me and Remus and James back during school… and afterwards it was Voldemort and his followers when you got scared of them. It must have been the finest moment of your life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew's mouth was opening and closing, but no intelligible sound was coming out.

"Guess that's why you never went after Harry these past few years," Moon commented. "Voldemort's out of the way, and Dumbledore's nearby. There'd be no point in revealing yourself now."

"Why would I want to harm my dear friend's son?" he said shrilly, his voice beginning to crack.

"Because you're a coward," Black said. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. The girl's right—you weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him…"

Pettigrew was completely silent, his face pale and sweaty. Moon glanced between him and Black; there were still some parts of the story missing, she was sure of it.

"Excuse me, Sirius?" she said. Black looked at her, his eyes confused. "I'm just curious; how'd you break out from Azkaban without using Dark Magic?"

"Yes!" Pettigrew squeaked. "Thank you! That's what we should be talking—"

Moon pointed a wand in his direction, glowering at him. "I wasn't speaking to you, now was I?"

Black was quiet, contemplating his answer.

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly, cautiously. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know…" he paused to swallow. "They feel their way towards people by sensing their emotions… they could tell that my feelings were less—less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand…

"But then I saw Peter in that picture," he said, facing Pettigrew once again. "I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…"

Pettigrew was terrified, shaking his head, but his eyes never left Black.

"… ready to strike the moment he could be sure of his allies… to deliver the last Potter to them," Black continued. "If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honours… so you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive…"

Moon felt Harry freeze next to her. She put a hand on his shoulder, noticing that he didn't react. He was thinking about something important; too focused on Black's explanation to notice anything else.

"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it… it wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… it's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I was thin, very thin… thin enough to slip through the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog… I've been living in the Forest ever since… except when I come to watch the Quidditch matches, of course… you fly as well as your father did, Harry…"

Black met Harry's eyes, not breaking away.

"Believe me," he croaked. "Believe me. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

Several tense second passed before, finally, Harry nodded.

"NO!" Pettigrew shrieked, moving forward. The students aimed their wands at him, but Dawn was quicker; her hand latched onto the back of his tattered robes.

"I think we've heard all we needed to hear," Dawn said pleasantly, her hand tightening around the fabric as Pettigrew tried to break free of her grip.

"No—please, you have to understand—I had no choice, not with Voldemort's supporters in every corner—you can't take his word over mine—!"

Moon knew that the only thing left in Pettigrew was the need to beg for mercy, to grovel at their feet as he tried to earn their pity. He was cornered, and terrified because of it.

"I most certainly can," Dawn replied. "And I'm sure the Ministry will as well."

"You must be as mad as him—"

"There, some people would agree with you," Dawn interrupted. "Still, we should be heading up to the castle—and I don't think you're going to walk with us willingly…"

Dawn looked over at Darkrai, still floating in its position. "Would you mind, terribly, knocking him out for the time being? I promise I'll wake him eventually."

Something akin to the sound of radio static came from the nightmare pokémon, and an orb of deep purple light shot towards Pettigrew. It struck him in the chest, knocking him onto him back. His eyes had just slid shut when he began twitching and whimpering.

"What did you do?" Black asked, staring at Darkrai with trepidation.

"Nothing too awful—he's just having a nightmare," Dawn explained. "He won't wake up—not naturally, at least—so we can take him up to the castle without him trying to escape," she said, regarding Pettigrew—who had gone quiet—with disdain. "How to do that, though…"

"I can levitate him through the passageway," Moon offered. "It wouldn't be hard."

"That will do," Dawn nodded. Moon pointed her wand at Pettigrew, and with a muttered "Levicorpus," levitated the man off of the bed. She redirected her wand, and his body was pulled along with her, as though attached by a rope.

"Well then," Dawn said, looking between the other three people standing. "Moon, stay in the back along with Darkrai—as tempting as it is, don't knock Pettigrew's head on the ceiling—I'll go in front of you. Sirius, Harry, would you mind leading the way?"

"What about your leg?" Sirius said.

Dawn waved a hand, uncaring. "I've trained pokémon for around ten years now; I've had worse."

Moon ignored the smirk Harry shot her, holding up Lycanroc's pokéball.

"Time to return, boy. Thanks for your help."

Lycanroc vanished into the pokéball. They went out of the room and down the stairs in a line; Sirius, Harry, Dawn, Moon, an unconscious Pettigrew, Crookshanks wandering underneath Pettigrew's legs, and Darkrai, who had sunk into the shadows; invisible except for the dark patch that gave away his location.

The passageway was low and dark. Moon had to actively keep Pettigrew's head from hitting the rocky ceiling, but no one called her out when he knocked against a stray rock. Dawn wasn't limping as she moved through the passageway. Her leg was dragging a small amount, but it didn't slow her down.

"Why did you insist on letting him live?" Sirius asked from the front of the line, the question directed at Dawn.

"It might just be my opinion, but I think a dead body is hardly convincing evidence that you're not a murderer," she said humorously. "This way, you'll be able to walk away from all of this as a free man. Pettigrew will be sent to Azkaban, and you can live your life in a manner of your choosing. That's a better form of revenge than murder, wouldn't you agree?"

He didn't respond verbally, but judging from the way he relaxed, like a weight had been lifted from him, he did agree.

"You know, Harry," Sirius said, "I don't know if anyone's told you before—you must have been confused earlier—but I'm you're godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," Harry replied.

"Well… your parents appointed me your guardian," Sirius said detachedly. "If anything happened to them…" he paused, as though he was expecting Harry to say something. "I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle. But… well… think about it. Once my name's cleared… if you want a… a different home…"

"What—live with you?" Harry said, his head hitting a protruding rock. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," Sirius amended. "I understand. I just thought I'd—"

"Are you mad?" Harry said, his voice suddenly as hoarse as Sirius'. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Sirius stopped moving to face Harry, halting the line. "You want to? You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" Harry said.

Moon could only see the shadowy outlines of the people in front of her due to the darkness of the tunnel, but it wasn't hard to imagine Sirius grinning at the response. Harry would be smiling like mad as well, finally being able to leave the Dursleys behind.

It was twilight by the time they left the passageway. Crookshanks ran ahead, freezing the Whomping Willow once again before darting off towards the castle. Sirius climbed outside and helped them out of the passageway one by one. Moon levitated Pettigrew's unconscious form out of the hole. Harry went over to where he had dropped the Invisibility Cloak, picking up the length of fabric and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Bit past curfew, isn't it?" he remarked, a mischievous glint in his green eyes. "Hermione's probably pacing a hole in the floor, worrying because we're not back."

"Let's hope she doesn't faint when we tell her what we've been up to," Moon replied, a smirk settling on her face.

The walk up to the castle was more enjoyable than the passageway. The air was just beginning to turn cool, and a light breeze had picked up to help it along. The four of them were walking shoulder to shoulder, with Dawn and Moon on the outside, Sirius standing closer to Dawn and Harry next to Moon. The grounds were empty of people, so no one was around to stop them. Moon twirled her wand mindlessly, accidently sending Pettigrew into a partial somersault before she corrected it.

"That would've been unfortunate," she laughed. "Or maybe an improvement. Should I hold him upside-down for the rest of the way?" she joked, looking at the others. Both Harry and Sirius had slowed down their walking, falling a few steps short of the two girls. "Harry?"

"What's the matter?" Dawn asked them. "Are you feeling alright?"

They were both turning pale; their eyes beginning to gloss over. Sirius was in a worse state than Harry; his limbs were shaking and his breathing was shallow.

"Can you hear me?" Dawn said, becoming increasingly worried. "Talk to me—Sirius—Harry—"

Moon looked around, and she too became pale at what she saw.

Dementors. At least fifty of them, forming clouds with each other and drifting down towards the group of humans. Harry was starting to tremble; Sirius was having trouble standing; Moon—

Felt nothing.

"This isn't right," she muttered. "I'm supposed to be reliving my worst memories now. Why am I not affected?"

"As interesting as this phenomena is, we have these two to worry about," Dawn said, not looking ruffled by the presence of the Dementors either. "Is there some way to get them to leave?"

"The Patronus Charm, but I don't know it—Harry does, though," Moon said. With her free hand, and a mumbled apology, she took a fistful of his hair and tugged it as hard as she dared.

"Ouch!"

"Come on, Harry, you've been training all semester for this," she said hurriedly. The Dementors had slowed down, confused by their lack of effect on the two women, but they were still getting closer. "Use the charm, just like you did at the game."

He nodded, his cheeks regaining a bit of colour. He raised his wand, stretching it out towards the Dementors.

"Expecto Patronum," he said, his voice shaking. "Expecto Patronum."

A few measly wisps of light poured from the tip of the wand, but nothing followed.

"You can do this," Moon said. "Just stay happy; you have so much to look forward to now, you get to live with Sirius."

"Expecto Patronum," he repeated. Not even a glimmer of light. Moon saw Sirius stumble, clutching his head; Dawn caught him before he hit the ground. "Moon, I don't think—"

"You can do this," she said, stressing every word. "You did it wonderfully at the match, your Patronus was brilliant—it's a stag, did you know that? Like your dad was."

She had found the right words. Harry raised his wand again, his emerald eyes determined.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A stag appeared, its form unwavering and bright. It charged at the Dementors, sending them reeling back, shooting into the sky to get away from the radiant guardian. Harry drew a deep breath as the effects of the Dementors left him; Sirius was standing again, one hand around Dawn's shoulder, his eyes glued to the Patronus.

"Prongs?" he said so quietly that Moon nearly missed it.

The castle doors, a scant twenty feet away from them, burst open. Dumbledore was out on the grounds in a second, followed by McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and Snape, all of them staring after the retreating Dementors.

"What on earth were you—" McGonagall began, only to be stopped short when she took in the sight of the five of them; one of them a wanted criminal, another a supposedly dead man. The other teachers froze when they caught sight of Sirius. Snape was barely containing his fury. Dumbledore, on the other hand, merely looked contemplative.

"Hello, Professors," Moon said cheerfully, tilting her wand so that Pettigrew's face was in full view of the teachers. "It seems that there's been a slight misunderstanding regarding Peter Pettigrew's death. Mind if we go inside for a talk?"