Chapter Seventeen: In a Pinch

The door to Professor McGonagall's office seemed to swing closed with a sickening clicking sound that echoed with finality and the threat of expulsion.

'Professor, I -'

He was cut off by the Prof. taking her biscuit tin down and offering him a Ginger Newt. 'I'm afraid things are looking very bad, Black,' she told him.

'I know that - but it wasn't me. Really! Someone must be setting me up.'

'Though I should hate to think there was someone in the castle capable of behaving in such an underhand manner, I should also dearly like to believe in your innocence.' Her eyebrows knitted together as she examined him closely, giving her the uncanny appearance of a rather beaky hawk. Sirius tried to make his expression look as innocent and injured as possible.

'If what you say is true,' she said, after a moment's deliberation,' - and I have always been inclined to think it is - then the victims of our mysterious assailant are mere collateral, and the real target of these attacks is - and always had been - you. Someone wants to get you into trouble - worse, be forced from the castle in disgrace, your reputation in ruins. You seem to have made a very dangerous enemy somewhere, Mr. Black - can you think of anyone at all who dislikes you enough to take such drastic measures?'

'Well…' he said slowly, 'there's only one person I can think of who hates me - really hates me.'

'And who is that?'

'Snivellus Snape. He hates us all. He'd do anything to get us booted from the castle. Maybe he's just started with me.'

'Perhaps Mr. Snape has the motive, but has he had the opportunity?'

Sirius thought about it, he furrowed his brow as he tried to remember all the terrible things that had happened around him that year, and where Snivellus had been at the time. 'With Filch's cat, I'd hexed him just before the feast. He never showed up to it, he claimed he'd been frozen all that time but - he could easily have attacked Mrs. Norris, and hung her up while the rest of the school was downstairs.' His eyes widened. 'And he did have a book on how to transmogrify animals, Evans had a go at him over it in Prep, he said my brother lent it to him. He would have known how to do it.'

'And the knarls? And Mr. Stebbins?'

'He was there when I had that fight with Stebbins, half the school was. And I saw him coming out of the castle after I had put the knarls away. At the time, I thought it was too late for him to have known what I'd been doing - that he wouldn't have known to kill the knarls. But maybe - if everything else fits - maybe he did see me. And then today - well - I did go out of my way to humiliate him in front of everyone - and Filch was there, he put me in detention. Snivelly has good reason to want to get his own back, I suppose - and he knew people would believe I had it in for Filch.'

'This is a very serious accusation, Mr. Black,' she warned. 'And one being made with very little evidence. However, considering the alternative, I will look into it. Until such a time as I have conducted my enquiry, though, you will be confined to Gryffindor Tower.'

Sirius's eyes widened in outrage, 'but I haven't done anything!'

'Mr. Black!' Her voice was tinged with a now familiar bite of asperity. 'You must see that this is as much for your own protection as everyone else's. No one can accuse you of attacking anyone if you are safely stashed away in your own dormitory. Now, consider yourself under house arrest until the matter is resolved. Do I make myself clear?'

Sirius glowered darkly, but he nodded his head. 'Yes, Professor McGonagall,' and he viciously bit down on his Ginger Newt, spraying crumbs everywhere.

…

Though it pained him to do so, Sirius kept his word and confined himself to Gryffindor Tower for the rest of the week. It was a pain as well. It was the height of summer, the weather was glorious and, when everyone else was done with their exams for the day, they were going outside to sunbathe or splash around in the shallows of the Black Lake. And yet here Sirius was, imprisoned in his tower - missing out on all the fun.

His friends stood by him loyally, and stayed inside as well. They spent their own evenings in the gloom of the common room, playing gobstones and chess, or else making toast up in the dorm (the bread only set on fire three out of five times now - and the boys all agreed great progress had been made on that front).

Thursday morning was the third year Care of Magical Creatures exam and, after breakfast, Sirius, James and Peter waved goodbye to Remus and made their way out into the grounds. 'It feels good to be outside for a change,' Sirius said, breathing deeply. 'Race you to the forest!' and he set off towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest at top speed - with the other two trailing behind him, calling for him to wait.

The exam itself proved to be rather fun. Professor Kettleburn started them all off with a tank of Flobberworms and told them that, in order to pass, their Flobberworms had to still be alive by the end. As Flobberworms thrive best when left alone, the boys provided them with plenty of lettuce and then moved onto the next task, where the Professor had provided them each with a clutch of fire salamanders.

They had to build a habitat suitable for the salamanders and keep them happy, so Sirius wandered off into the treeline looking for twigs and branches they could burn, while James began to build the beginnings of a bonfire and Peter kept an eye on the salamanders so they didn't lose any before the fire was ready.

'Here,' James said, after about ten minutes. 'I think this should be enough to get us going, we can add more when Sirius gets back.' He pointed his wand at his little pyre and said 'Incendio!'

The whole thing went up in flames and, one by one, Peter and James dropped the fire loving lizards into their conflagration, and watched them happily scamper up and down.

A rather large shadow fell across them. 'What yer up to?' a gruff voice asked.

'Oh - hi, Hagrid. Care of Magical Creatures exam.'

'Fire salamanders, eh? I hoped they were called that 'cause they breathed fire, when I firs' heard about them, when I was a boy. Bit disappointin' in the end, t' tell yer the truth. Still - not everythin' can breathe fire, eh? Important life lesson, that.'

'Some of us like it that way,' James said, sounding amused. 'Where are you off to, anyway?' he asked, clocking that - despite the heat - Hagrid had his large moleskin overcoat on, as if readying for a trip.

'Knockturn Alley. Gotta buy some flesh eatin' slug repellant. I've jus' planted the pumpkin seeds ready for Halloween and - what d'yer know, this mornin' I find slugs are crawlin' all over m' pumpkin patch.' He took out a pocket watch, which had twelve hands but no numbers. 'Prob'ly won' be back 'til late - mebbe not 'til gone ten. It's a shame, I've got too much to do really, but the trip needs to be made 'else we won't have any pumpkins come October. Well, see yer, lads.' And, with a wave of a massive hand, he strode away down the lawn and out of the school gates.

Sirius appeared out of the forest, absolutely laden down with branches. 'I think this ought to do us.' Together, the three of them carefully placed the new firewood into the flames - and then they turned to their final task: separating knarls from hedgehogs.

…

Remus spent the morning alone in the library, revising for his Ancient Runes exam, which was to take place that afternoon, trying to cram in everything he could about the runic numerical system before it was too late. (Professor Babbling had hinted that some runic sums might be included in their translations - and it was bad enough he was going to have to get his maths right, without having to get it right in picture form.)

Runes were a language used before English adapted the Arabic numeral system into its own form, and exist in their own right as a magical rejection of Latin, and the hegemony of the muggle Empire - therefore rejecting the Roman Numeral system as a matter of course.

He read in " Symbols, Names and Numerals; The Most Ancient Art Form of Magical Communication" by Seppel Sprache.

Therefore a pictorial form was needed to represent numbers, and thus a rather ingenious system was devised - whereby the runic symbol used to represent a magical creature was used in the stead of Roman Xs and Vs.

The magical creature was often chosen simply for having the corresponding number of legs with the amount they were to represent (see for example the acromantula as the pictorial representation of eight). Sometimes the choice, however, was more esoteric in nature.

Take the base number "zero" for example. How is a symbol - by definition a visual representation of something - supposed to represent nothing? After much deliberation, the idea to use the Demiguise symbol was hit upon. The invisibility of the Demiguise itself stood in for total zero.

He was aware of a group of second year Slytherins coming into the library to start some revision of their own. They got all their books out of their bags and spread them across the table. Regulus borrowed a quill from Tristram Rowle. There was some shuffling and some murmuring and then they settled down to work.

The unicorn, with its single horn, represents "one" and the double horned graphorn "two". The system continues, quite easily understood, until one encounters the Fwooper as a representation of "four". Not everyone may realise the link, but a Fwooper's feathers feature four different colours - and thus it earns its place as a numeral (though why the four legged kneazle or crup was not chosen is a mystery lost in time).

"Seven" is the most obscure of all the pictorial representations within the runic system. Due to the powerful magic which has always shrouded the number seven (and, one supposes, a lack of creatures with seven legs) the symbol for this number is not a creature, as all others are, but instead is depicted with the rune which means "unknown".

Madam Pince had taken a feather duster and was now dusting the bookshelves over near the studying second years. She hovered over them, like a giant bird of prey, her eyes darting back and forth as if she was trying to discover what rule they were breaking (though they were working in perfect silence) and by what means she could kick them out of her library.

'Aha,' she declared, after she had scrutinised them without luck for several minutes. 'Second years are only allowed five books out at a time. You have too many.' Ignoring the protests of the Slytherins, she began to pile up the extra books they had spread across the table, which she had deemed illegal (though Remus suspected she had made this rule up on the spur of the moment) and once she had a great tower of tomes in her arms, she smacked Regulus around the back of the head with her feather duster and ordered them all to vamoose.

Grumbling, and with many a dark look, they packed what books they had left back into their bags and exited the library.

Stillness reigned once more. The sun shone through the window and splashed light all across Remus's page

Once the nine symbols had been attained, the system continued to eschew the Roman method and instead hit upon something very similar to the modern Arabic method of combining digits. Thusly a quintaped represented five. A unicorn followed by a quintaped was fifteen; a quintaped followed by a demiguise was fifty and a quintaped followed by a unicorn was fifty one. Once these basics had been learned, the system could not be easier to follow (though could prove rather more difficult to draw).

He squinted, trying to block out some of the light so he could see better, and started to make some notes; frowning as he went back to double check why the hydra was used as the symbol for "nine".

Once he thought he had memorised all the numbers, he pulled his runic dictionary towards himself and started to revise the alphabet. He practised writing his name a few times, he suspected they would be expected to put their name on their exam in runes - and it would be pretty embarrassing if he got that wrong!

The shaft of sunlight shifted further round the table and, before he was really ready for his revision session to be over, the bell for lunch was ringing. He collected up all his things and then, as an afterthought, took Sprache's book on numerals to the counter to check it out. He might read it again over lunch.

Madam Pince was busy cataloguing books, and she ignored him for a solid three minutes as she stamped the return dates and sorted them according to her own mystifying system. She swiped one book off the pile, opened it - leafed through and then tutted. 'This isn't a library book, how did this get here?' She threw it to one side.

Curious, Remus picked it up to have a look at it. It was a scrapbook of sorts - with clippings from the newspaper and even a chocolate frog card spellotaped inside. What made it interesting, though, was that it was a scrapbook about Lord Voldemort. He pocketed it, without Pince noticing, intending to show the others when he got a chance.

…

He met up with his friends in the Great Hall. 'How did the exam go?' he asked, sliding onto the bench and helping himself to a plateful of Shepherd's Pie.

'Good,' James said '- flobberworms and salamanders. Dead easy.'

Salamanders Remus thought to himself, used as the runic pictographic numeral for six - to represent the number of hours a salamander can live outside of the flame.

'How was revision?' Sirius asked him.

'Fine. The library was quiet - Madam Pince kicked out everyone who breathed too loudly. What are you doing while we're in Ancient Runes?'

'I'll be up in the dorm -'s'not like I've got a choice - I'll probably go over my Defence notes.'

'Or play with your toaster.'

'Or play with my toaster,' he agreed.

Once they'd finished eating, they headed up to the Common Room (most people were going outside to enjoy the sunshine, but poor Sirius was still confined indoors) and then, when the bell rang for afternoon lessons, Remus, James and Peter waved goodbye to him and headed off to their exam.

It wasn't too bad in the end. Remus's numeral revision came in handy and he thought he recognised most of the words he had to translate.

'I completely forgot what the symbol for "P" was, though,' Peter told him and James as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower, once it was over. 'I had to write my name as "Eter Ettigrew" - total nightmare.'

They arrived back in the common room to find Sirius sitting by the fire, his Defence text book was open in front of him and - rather mystifyingly - John and FLP, the puffskeins, were trapped inside metal cages.

'What've you done to FLP?' James roared, tapping the cage with his wand and snatching his pet out, clutching him close to his chest and glowering at Sirius.

'Relax - I was just practising conjuring cages for our exam tomorrow. It's the first thing Dumbledore taught us - might come in useful.'

'We're unlikely to be fighting a transformed werewolf, though,' Peter said.

Remus felt his cheeks burn bright red. 'I - er - there was something I wanted to show you all actually,' he said, pulling the scrapbook out of his bag and hoping to change the topic of conversation. 'I found this in the library. Look, it's all about Voldemort.'

He opened it up and - cages and werewolves forgotten - they all gathered round and studied it. There was a clipping from all the way back in the summer, about the riot that had broken out at the Ministry of Magic, and an opinion piece written by Sirius's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, about the importance of youth in the current struggle (the line " And it is up to us - the young - the future of our world - to ensure that our separation is kept and our prosperity allowed to flourish" had been underlined five times, and with much excitement).

James whistled. 'This must belong to some mini Knights of Walpurgis nutter. A wannabe dying to join up.'

'Do you think it might belong to Snivellus?' Pete suggested, looking at all the underlining of the words in Rodolphus Lestrange's article "My Bride, Bella, and the Importance of Blood Lines". A lot of attention had been paid to the lines about the inferiority of muggleborns and their non-magic relatives.

'It must!' Sirius had leafed through the pages and landed on the piece from October by Abraxas Malfoy "In Conversation with the Dark Lord" . 'Look!' He jabbed a finger at the page, where a box had been drawn around one section of the interview:

TDL: Perhaps that is true. I know not - nor do I care. The truth is: squibs are born without magic, deemed unworthy of it and are rightfully cast from this world. They have no place in our society - and neither do their descendants.

AM: You think squibs should live with the muggles? That they should be driven from our world?

TDL: They are not of our world - they are one with the muggle and should live with them.

Then, in the margin of the scrapbook, was a hastily scribbled doodle of a cat, hanging by its tail, crosses where its eyes should be.

'Mrs. Norris!' Peter gasped.

'This is Snape's book,' Sirius said, sounding very pleased. 'We've got him - we've got proof. And it means I'm free! Well done for finding this, Moony - I could kiss you!'

'I - er … maybe later. We don't have proof,' Remus said (trying - and failing - not to go bright red). 'We haven't found Snape's name on it yet.'

'Details, details,' Sirius said, waving an airy hand. He leafed through some pages, past Voldemort's manifesto and The Daily Prophet's report on all the new recruits who had signed up to the Knights following "Mea Pugna" s publication, and landed on the article Lord Voldemort had written back in January:

The Thorns in our Midst

A Philosophical Musing on Which is Worse: The Mudblood or the Blood Traitor?

He looked at it, and then his face seemed to drain of all colour.

'Sirius, what's wrong?' James asked him. He squinted at the scrapbook to see what was suddenly troubling his best friend.

As with all the clippings, this article had some sections underlined. One part in particular had apparently received a great deal of attention:

These are not some distant "other" I speak of, but our brothers, sisters, parents and children. They are our families, and - should you find your own rose bush thorny - you must root them out, prune your own bush for the good of your kin and all wizardkind.

And then there was an annotation in the margin, written in a very elegant and curling copperplate hand:

Message received loud and clear, My Lord

'Sirius?'

Sirius's face was totally white, but his eyes were dark and dangerous, and his hands were trembling. He snatched the book up, so the others could no longer see it, and rifled back through the pages until he reached the inner front cover. Whatever he saw on the Ex Libris did not seem to improve his mood.

'What's going -?'

But Sirius did not answer - instead he rather violently pushed his chair away from himself and stomped towards the staircase, without a word.

'Siri-?'

There was the sound of his feet pounding on the steps, and then the crash of their dormitory door being kicked open, followed by the bang of it slamming shut again.

'What on earth happened?' Peter asked (his voice was a little querulous, Sirius was so angry he had borne more than a passing resemblance to Peter's boggart).

'I'm not sure,' Remus said, staring worriedly up the now empty dorm stairs. 'But I don't think it's safe for us to follow him yet.'

…

Up in the dorm, Sirius had thrown the scrapbook down on his bed and was busy kicking the ever living snot out of his bed post. 'Bastard!' He cried out, looking for something he could punch. 'Evil, bastarding, buggering little…' He thumped the wall and then broke off one sweary tirade for another, as his knuckles split and began to bleed.

He sucked on them, trying to fight back tears. 'Evil, foul, little… I should have known. Who else was it ever going to be? Foul git. Evil bastard …' and then he lost his battle and burst out crying.

He threw himself down on his bed and buried his face in the pillow, trying to choke down his sobs and occasionally thumping the mattress and punctuating it with another: 'bastard'.

Just as his shock and upset was about to be taken over by the red mist of rage, once again, he suddenly had an idea, slicing through his mind with a crystal cut clarity, arriving fully formed as if from some kind of divine intervention.

He sat up, frowning as he thought, and swiped the back of his hand across his nose and then rubbed the tears from his eyes. The more he pondered it, the more he liked his idea and - slowly - his breathing calmed down, and his cries became soft hiccoughs before drying up altogether - and then an evil grin lit up his face.

He jumped off his bed, and rooted in his trunk for a parchment and quill before sitting at his nightstand and hastily dashing off a note (he made his writing deliberately scrawly, not at all like his usual aristocratic script). He read it back. Nodded to himself. Grinned. And then he folded it up and slid it inside the cover of the scrapbook - right next to the words on the bookplate which had so upset him:

This book is the property of:

Regulus Arcturus Black

…

'Do you think we should go up there and see him yet?' James asked. He had rescued John from his cage, as well, and was now juggling both puffskeins, while Remus and Peter sat quietly by the fire and tried to go over their Defence notes.

'No,' Remus said, frowning and scratching his nose with his quill as he went over how to disentangle oneself from the clutches of a grindylow. 'He won't thank us for bursting in on him while he's upset. We just need to give him spa-'

He was cut off by a clatter of feet on the staircase, and the reappearance of a much more cheerful looking Sirius.

'James, I'm borrowing your invisibility cloak.'

'You're not allowed to leave the tower.'

'Well, then - it's lucky no one will see me. See you at tea.' And he threw the cloak over himself and vanished from view. A moment later the portrait opened, as if all by itself, and then swung shut.

'Where do you think he's going?' Peter asked.

James shrugged. 'Dunno.'

'I'd say we should follow him,' Remus sighed. 'Only -'

'He's invisible.'

'Exactly.'

With not much else to do, they put their books away and headed down to the Great Hall for tea. It was quite busy when they got there, and they squeezed onto the end of the Gryffindor table and started helping themselves to platefuls of beef casserole. Across from himself, Remus could see Regulus on the Slytherin table; he seemed to have misplaced something, as he was frantically rooting through his bag - pulling out all his books and quills and pots of ink. But of his brother, there was no sign.

'He'll miss tea at this rate,' James said.

'It'll be a shame to miss pudding,' Peter eyed up the bowl of mint choc chip ice cream Lily was enjoying further down the table, and rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

'Where is he anyway?'

'I'm right here, keep your specs on!' and with a flourish, the invisibility cloak was pulled off and Sirius rematerialised right beside Remus. He still seemed unusually cheerful. Indeed, as he helped himself to the casserole, he was humming.

'What did you do?' James asked suspiciously.

'I'll tell you later - in the dorm.'

'You're up to something.'

'Absolutely.'

'Well, you could at least tell me - I'm your best friend.'

But Sirius shook his head, and kept on eating and refused to be budged on the matter - despite James' incessant needling.

Across the Hall, Regulus seemed to find what he was looking for. He appeared inordinately relieved, and then packed everything back into his bag and left. Sirius seemed to concentrate doubly hard on his casserole.

Remus frowned.

Once they were finished (Peter had two bowls of ice cream and - despite James' telling him to hurry - scraped both bowls spotless) the boys returned to the tower and went up to their dorm so Sirius could tell them what he was up to.

'Spill,' James demanded as soon as the door was closed.

Sirius smirked. 'It isn't Snivelly's book - that scrapbook,' he told them. 'It's even worse, you'll never guess - but it belongs to my idiot, awful brother.'

'What?'

'Regulus?'

'No!'

'Oh you better believe it,' he nodded. 'It was Reg who transmogrified Mrs. Norris, once Voldemort said squibs needed to be chased out of the magical world. Remember he was late to the feast?'

'But Snivelly had that book!' James said.

'Snivellus had my brother's book,' Sirius corrected. 'I think it's safe to say, Reg read it first. And then, after Voldie wrote that bit about "pruning your bush", Reg started targeting me - trying to get the blood traitor off his family tree once and for all.'

'Don't you remember, Pete?' James said suddenly. 'We saw him coming out of the castle right as Sirius was putting the knarls away. He must have seen - waited until Sirius left and then…' he sliced a finger across his throat.

Sirius nodded. 'And he was there for my fight with Stebbins, and when Filch put me in detention and I stuck Snivelly in a ballgown. He's been there for all of it. I was so stupid not to realise.'

'So … what did you do?' Remus asked. 'Why are you so chipper about all of this?'

Sirius's smile became all the more smug, and he practically hugged himself with glee. 'I've played a trick on him,' he said. 'A prank. Just to give him a scare. But he deserves it - foul knobber that he is.'

All the boys grinned and leaned forward eagerly to hear more.

'I wrote him a note - disguised my handwriting and everything - I slipped it in his scrapbook and gave it back to him at dinner, under the invisibility cloak. Told him I was a seventh year about to join the Knights of Walpurgis, that I was impressed with his dedication, and that - if he wanted me to put a good word in for him with Voldemort - we should meet up and discuss things properly. I told him to meet me in the forest. And guess whereabouts in the forest, I chose?'

'Where?' the boys all chorused.

'In Pinchy's lair,' his grin split his face in two, and he didn't notice the colour drain from his friends' faces. 'Look, there he goes,' he said - turning to the window and pointing out to where the small figure of Regulus could be seen crossing the lawn. 'He'll wet his keks. Soft git.' He turned back to his friends - and finally clocked the look of horror on their faces. 'What?' his grin faltered slightly.

'Sirius … Pinchy will kill Regulus!' James told him.

But Sirius only snorted, and waved a dismissive hand. 'Don't be soft. I'm not an idiot. I sent him there for half past six - Pinchy's teatime - Hagrid will save him… What? ' He asked - as James' eyes went wide and staring, and Peter squealed and clutched at his face.

'H-Hagrid isn't here,' Peter stuttered.

'What do you mean? Where is he?'

'He went to Knockturn Alley, mate,' James told him. 'To get flesh eating slug repellent. He won't be back until later. He won't be feeding Pinchy tonight...'

'... And that means Pinchy will be extra hungry,' Remus finished up.

Sirius's eyes widened in alarm - and whirled back around to face the window and stare out at where Regulus was now rounding the lake. He flung the window open. 'REG!' he shouted, 'REG!'

But if his brother heard him (and it seemed unlikely he would) he did not turn around.

'We need to stop him, come on, men,' James jumped off his bed and fled to the door, the others followed - stampeding down the stairs and through the common room, out of the portrait hole and then racing through the corridors, taking the stairs three at a time.

…

Regulus entered the forest just as they flung the oak front doors open. 'REG!' They all bellowed at the tops of their voices. 'REG!' But they had no more luck than before, and the tiny figure disappeared into the treeline.

'Come on' James said - and they set off once again, sprinting down the lawn, round the lake path and plunging into the trees.

'REG!'

'REGULUS!'

But there was no sign of him, and so they continued to run, blundering down the twisting paths, crashing through the underbrush.

'REGULUS!'

'REG - YOU SOFT GIT! STOP! IT'S A TRAP!'

They raced on, their hearts hammering in their chests and their breath coming in short gasps.

'Maybe - maybe the centaurs will - will … stop him,' Peter huffed and puffed, clutching at a stitch as he ran.

'Maybe,' Sirius jumped a shrub like it was a hurdle and thundered off deeper into the forest. 'REG! REG GET BACK HERE, YOU STUPID, LITTLE SLIME!'

They were so deep into the forest now that the canopy of leaves was blotting out the summer-evening sun completely, and they cast "Lumos" to light their wands and guide their way. But it was still murky, and dangerous underfoot, and they stumbled on pebbles and tripped over tree roots and, once, Peter lost his footing so badly he crashed face first down on to the ground, his wand fell from his hand, the light went out and his knees and palms were skinned. But he struggled back to his feet - found his wand - and ran off after the others, gasping for breath but determined not to be left behind.

'REG!' Sirius called again. He came to a stop and peered around rather wildly. 'It should be somewhere around here. REG! Where is it, where is he?'

They all stood still, and tried to quiet their breathing (which was difficult when their lungs felt like they were on fire).

'REG!' They all called again.

'REGULUS!'

And then, 'shh!' Petter hushed them all. 'Listen!' They strained their ears and heard the sound of quiet crooning coming from close by:

Little Boy, you morsel tasty

I'll eat you slow, let's not be hasty

I'll crunch your bones, I'll rip your meat

Start with your head, end with your feet.

'Pinchy!' Remus gasped.

'Regulus!' Sirius groaned. 'HOLD ON, REG, WE'RE COMING!'

He took off again, towards the sound of Pinchy's singing, the others hot on his heels. They reached the ravine and began to scramble downwards, falling more than clambering, and not even caring in their desperation.

They hit the rocky, uneven ground of the gorge floor and began to pelt along it. Pinchy's song grew louder:

I'll savour you with every bite

You can't escape, try as you might

For once we've finished in my cave,

There will be no more little boy to save

The iron tang of blood wafted through the air, and they could hear the sound of someone groaning in pain.

'REGULUS!'

And then: 'there - look!' Peter's keen eyes had pierced through the gloom and found what the others could not see. Regulus lay on the floor in the mouth of the cave - he was still moving, but there was a large gash in his leg and the blood was puddling and pooling on the ground beside him. His scrapbook lay abandoned. And skittering around, clicking his pincers in anticipation, and gnashing his teeth, was Pinchy - singing away as he used his front legs to tear away at the wounded flesh on Regulus's leg. The manticore had grown since last they had seen him - closer now in size to an elephant than a horse. But his pincers were just as sharp as they remembered, his face just as terrifying and the shiny redness of his skin just as hard and impenetrable.

Remus raised his wand and yelled 'Dirumpo!' Purple sparks flew out of his wand and felled a tree, which fell on Pinchy. The manticore squawked in outrage and began to batter at the fallen trunk with his vicious tail. But the boys used that moment to scuttle forward and grab Regulus.

They gripped him under his arms and began to heave - but he screamed out in pain as they tried to move him. From this close they could see that Pinchy had already bitten through to the bone. And there were more cuts and scratches on him than they had first realised.

'What do we do?' Remus gasped.

'We have to move him.'

'We can't move him like this!'

And then Pinchy battered away the last of the tree, smashing it to kindling with his tail, and reared up above them.

'ARRGGHHH!' They all screamed. Peter began to cry.

'Come on, men,' James cried out, 'we've practiced for this - one, two, three -'

They all raised their wands: 'Immobulus!'

But Peter's wand backfired, the way it so often did when he tried freezing charms under pressure. He was engulfed in choking black smoke. Standing next to him, Remus was knocked off his feet by the force of the blast - and, though he still cast his own jinx, his aim was off. He hit the hard exoskeleton of Pinchy's scorpion-like body. The sparks bounced off him and ricocheted around the gorge, hitting Remus and James in their rebound, and freezing the boys in place.

James and Sirius had both managed to hit the soft underbelly, as they were supposed to - but two of them were not enough - and now Sirius was alone in the field. 'Immobulus!' he tried again - but had no more success. Pinchy glared down at him, raised a pincer and then backhanded him across the ravine.

He flew through the air and hit his head on a rock. He smelled the metallic scent of blood again, and felt something wet trickle down his brow. He was dizzy and felt sick, but he forced himself back up - staggering to his feet. 'Immobulus!' Still no luck.

And Pinchy was ignoring him, now he was out of the way, rearing back - jaws open, pincers raised - ready to savage the downed Regulus.

'Immobulus!' Sirius shouted again. Pinchy lunged forward ready to maul. 'Immobulus! Immobulus! DECIPULATEM!' Sirius roared. There was a rushing sound - and then iron bars sprung from the earth - shooting ten feet into the air before bending towards each other and trapping Pinchy inside completely.

He screamed in outrage - and attacked the bars with his pincers at the front and lashed at them with his tail at the back - but the cage held steady. With his breath coming out in ragged gasps, Sirius wiped away the blood that was now streaming into his eyes and pointed his wand at Remus and James. ' Dissuo .' They unfroze.

He held out a hand and helped up Peter - who had been lying flat on his back and still choking on the smoke of the explosion. Remus picked up the abandoned scrapbook and stashed it in his pocket. And then, cautiously, and really not wanting to get too close to Pinchy, they edged forward and gripped Regulus under the arms again.

Regulus screamed.

'You're just going to have be brave, Reg, there's nothing else for it,' Sirius panted. 'Come on.'

They dragged him a few inches. He screamed again. Locked in his cage, Pinchy screamed in fury and then - just as the boys thought they had reached a safe distance - the manticore reared back, aimed his middle stinger at them and let loose a burst of flame.

It was the boys' turn to scream - and they threw themselves to the ground for cover. When they finally dared scramble back to their feet, it was to find that Regulus had given up the ghost - and passed out cold.

…

It was actually easier to move Reg once he was unconscious, though he was a dead weight and they had to levitate him up the side of the gorge (and his head bumped against the rocks a few more times than was probably good for him). Even so, it took them a long time to get out of the forest and back to the castle, carrying him between them. And, by the time they reached the Hospital Wing, they were sweating profusely and their muscles were screaming.

Madam Pomfrey exclaimed in horror when she saw him, 'what on earth has happened? What have you done to him?'

'It wasn't us!' James protested, 'it was a mental manticore in the forest. We saved him!'

'You will be able to fix him, won't you?' Sirius asked worriedly.

'It will be difficult,' she said, shortly, helping the boys get Regulus onto the bed and beginning to examine his wounds. 'A manticore you say? How did one get in the forest?'

The boys exchanged a furtive look.

'And what was the boy doing in the forest anyway?'

Sirius coughed and shuffled his feet guiltily.

'Oh this is no good - I need to alert the Head Master,' and, once she had made sure Reg was comfortable, she crossed to the fireplace, threw a pinch of floo powder into the flames and called for Dumbledore. After a moment's consideration she called for Slughorn as well.

'This is going to take some Dittany', she bustled off to her Potions cabinet and took down a small, glass bottle marked "Essence of Dittany" and unstoppered it. She dripped three drops of the stuff onto Regulus's leg; there was a hissing sound and his flesh began to smoke - but the wound began to knit back together.

Regulus woke up with a start - letting out a strangled cry. And then his eyes fell on his brother. 'You!' he exclaimed. 'It was you! You tried to kill me!'

'A manticore tried to kill you, Mr. Black,' Madam Pomfrey told him, examining how much he had been healed by the Dittany.

'Only because he set it on me!'

The Matron stopped what she was doing and turned to look at Sirius, who flushed bright red. 'I was only getting my own back - after what he's been doing round the castle, blaming me for all those attacks when he's behind them.'

'Utter nonsense -' Regulus started to say, heatedly, but -

'We've got your scrapbook,' Sirius snapped at him.

It was Regulus' turn to flush. 'Well what do you expect?' he bit back at his brother - his eyes flashed with fury and he abandoned any pretence of innocence. 'You're an embarrassment to the family name! You disgrace us all! Mum wishes you were never born!'

'Mr. Black, there is no need for that!' Madam Pomfrey sounded quite scandalised.

But Regulus was heedless and reckless and his eyes were shining with angry tears. 'It's true - he makes the whole family ridiculous. People laugh at us - he doesn't have to live with it, have to hear. He doesn't know what it's like to have a filthy blood traitor for a brother -'

'BELIEVE ME! I KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE HAVING TRAITOROUS FILTH FOR A BROTHER!'

'Sirius - ' his friends tried to quiet him - but to no avail.

'YOU'RE THE SHAME OF THE FAMILY! A MUDBLOOD LOVER!'

'AND YOU'RE A DISGUSTING SLYTHERIN SLIME!'

'WELL YOU'RE A -'

'What is going on here?' Dumbledore's voice was pleasant and calm but it still cut through the brothers' yelling and silenced the pair of them at once. The Headmaster was standing in the doorway, looking around at the scene of the warring brothers, the horrified Matron and the rather awkward looking third year boys. Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall were with him.

''Pon my word,' the Potions Master puffed, 'what has happened to my seeker?' He waddled his way across the ward, as fast as his fat frame would allow him, and poked Regulus's leg with his finger.

'Ow.'

'Will it mend?' He asked Madam Pomfrey.

'It's already much better than it was - but it will take time and rest to get him back to as good as new.'

'What happened, boy?'

'He tried to kill me!' He pointed an accusatory finger at Sirius. 'He sent me into a manticore's lair!'

'It was a joke! I thought Hagrid would rescue him!'

'He wants me dead - he's a murderer.'

Slughorn stared at Sirius and then turned to Dumbledore. 'The boy will have to go - we can't have would-be murderers running around the castle, and this is not his first time.'

'It is my decision on whether or not Black is expelled, Horace, not yours,' McGonagall reminded him stiffly.

'You've protected him too long - and now look at what he's done.' He jabbed his pudgy finger into Regulus's wounded leg again.

'Ow.'

'I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation - and Black will be allowed to give it.'

'HE TRIED TO KILL ME!'

'WELL YOU'VE ATTACKED LOADS OF PEOPLE THIS YEAR!'

There was a ringing silence, as everyone looked between Sirius and Regulus - and then, the flames in the fireplace turned green and wooshed up high. A large shape was seen revolving in the grate - and then Walburga Black, herself, was stepping out onto the hearth and brushing herself down.

'Oh, balls ,' Sirius said softly.

'He tried to kill me, mum!' Regulus cried, pointing at his brother. Walburga's eyes flashed even more dangerously than Regulus's had done.

'What is the meaning of all this?' She demanded.

'What's she doing here?' Sirius sounded just as angry.

'Walburga, M'dear - welcome. Headmaster, when I heard little Reggie was attacked, I took the liberty of informing his mother right away.'

'Mrs. Black,' Dumbledore nodded to the new arrival. 'We find ourselves in something of a conundrum. Regulus has - it seems - been attacked by a manticore, and he is blaming none other than Sirius for this misfortune. We are trying to get to the bottom of it.'

'What is there to get to the bottom of? I do not doubt Regulus is telling the truth. Nor do I doubt my miserable excuse for an eldest son would hesitate to bring harm on his own blood kin.'

Dumbledore's smile tightened a little, the benign twinkle in his eye seemed to grow cold. 'Nevertheless we must hear all sides of the story.'

Walburga bristled with rage. 'Are you doubting Regulus's word? The word of a Black?'

'I am simply wondering why Mr. Black the elder would be forced to take such measures.'

'Because he is a filthy, muggle loving fool whose one aim in life is to hurt my family as much as possible. He is as dangerous as his friends are dirty,' she cast a disgusted and contemptuous glance over James, Remus and Peter. 'He has no proper wizard feeling and now he has tried to kill his brother. Well, this is the end - he has crossed the line, he has been threatening to cross it since he was five and now he's gone and done it. I'll have no more of him. He's out of the family - and if you won't send him to Azkaban, where he belongs, then I suggest you expel him, snap his wand in half and send him to live among the muggles he loves so much.'

'All in good time, Mrs. Black.'

'HE TRIED TO KILL MY SON. EXPEL HIM!'

'He is your son too.'

'HE IS NO SON OF MINE. AND I'LL NOT HAVE REGULUS'S ATTEMPTED MURDERER IN THE CASTLE, YOU SENILE, OLD FOOL.'

'Very well,' Dumbledore turned to Sirius - whose jaw was tight as he desperately fought not to cry. Tears were already shining in his eyes - though whether at the thought of being expelled from school or disowned by his mother, no one else knew. 'Why did you set a manticore on your brother?' the Headmaster asked quietly, there was a tinge of disappointment in his voice, but also compassion. It was very hard not to feel sorry for Sirius at the moment, on the brink of expulsion and with no home to go to.

But Sirius folded his arms and shook his head, refusing to answer, as he did not trust himself not to cry if he started to speak. And he would not give Reg and his mother the satisfaction.

'Sirius - ' James said, nudging him to talk, but Sirius remained obstinate.

Remus felt in his pocket - and brought out Regulus's scrapbook. 'It was because of this, Professor,' he said - offering it to Dumbledore. 'I found it in the library earlier today. It's proof. Regulus attacked Mrs. Norris when Lord Voldemort said squibs should be driven from the magical world. And when he said people needed to root out blood traitors from their family trees, Regulus started attacking people and framing Sirius. It was Reg who killed those knarls, and who pushed the suit of armour on Stebbins and attacked Filch the other day - and he's been doing it all to try and get rid of Sirius.'

'So, in retaliation, Mr. Black tried to kill his brother?'

'It was a joke! He thought Hagrid would find him, he never thought Reg would be in any real danger. As soon as we realised, we ran off to save him.'

'Admirable bravery,' Dumbledore nodded. His brow furrowed. 'But why would Hagrid save him?'

The boys all looked at each other awkwardly. 'I think we have to tell,' Peter said. And so, none too comfortably, the three of them explained about finding Pinchy, and Hagrid saving them (though of course they did not admit to what they had been doing in Pinchy's lair in the first place) and him swearing them to secrecy.

'But then Hagrid went to Knockturn Alley, so Pinchy didn't get fed - but Sirius didn't know that,' James said earnestly.

'We got there just in the nick of time, Sirius trapped Pinchy in a cage,' Remus said.

'It was brilliant ,' James added.

Dumbledore actually smiled at this. 'Well it is good to know that at least a little of something I teach is going in.'

Walburga was breathing very heavily, by this point. Her nostrils were flaring with every exhalation. 'I don't want explanations. I want that vermin expelled.'

'That "vermin" is your son!' Professor McGonagall barked (her nostrils flaring every bit as wide as Walburga's) 'And it seems he had extreme provocation in acting as he did.'

'Minerva is correct,' Dumbledore said heavily. 'Very well, Walburga - I shall expel young Sirius for trying to kill his brother…'

James, Remus and Peter (and even McGonagall) burst out with objections - but Dumbledore silenced them with a look. ' However, Regulus has also been behind some very disturbing deeds this year - dark magic, violence, and all done with the aim of destroying his brother's reputation and having him removed from school. His run in with the manticore, this evening, is a direct consequence of all he has done this year, and I cannot in good conscience expel Sirius and not mete out the same treatment to Regulus. Both boys expelled, Walburga. It will be the most terrible scandal and you shall have no fully qualified wizard to carry on the family name.'

Walburga seemed to swell in outrage. Her bosom heaved, her face turned purple and her nostrils dilated to an alarming degree… and then: 'Fine,' she snapped. 'Keep the blood traitor brat here, we can forget the whole business. Keep them both.'

Dumbledore beamed. 'That is precisely what I intended to do, my dear.' The three boys (and McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey) cheered, Sirius burst into tears and immediately pretended to look out of the window so no one would notice (everyone noticed) and Slughorn harrumphed a little bit.

'Probably for the best, Dumbledore…' his walrus moustache bristled.

Dumbledore's expression became grave again, and Remus noticed - for the first time - the care lines worn into his face. He suddenly looked much older than Remus had ever realised, as if Dark Lords and mass muggle slaughters were already taking their toll. 'There are no lengths to which I will not go to keep impressionable young minds under my care,' he told Mrs. Black. 'Not when I know what is out there, not when I know whose influence they may fall under if they are cast out from the safety of Hogwarts and forced to make their own way. Perhaps I will be accused of being too compassionate, but as long as forgiveness is one path and darkness the other, I will always strive to follow the first way - no matter the crime.

'Sirius, you have behaved rashly and without regard. For this you will need to be punished, though I will leave that matter in the capable hands of your Head of House. Regulus,' he turned to the boy on the bed, who swallowed and turned pale.

'You are not the first young man to fall under the influence of a charismatic, powerful wizard, promising the world if only you follow him. And nor will you be the last.' His eyes took on a far away look, as if he was remembering something distant and painful. 'I hope in time you can come to see Voldemort for what he truly is - and choose another way, a different path and a brighter future. I do not believe the man should be held back by what the boy he once was believed, though it is my hope that you are able to make the right choices without first having to suffer in the way that so many who are seduced by darkness suffer. I hold out hope that you will one day see the error of your ways and make right your trespasses. Until then, there is always a place for you here at Hogwarts and my door is always open.'

His voice suddenly became brisk, and he clapped his hands together. 'Well then, Regulus needs to heal and the other boys have a Defence exam in the morning. I suggest they return to their dorm room and we leave Regulus to it. This evening has been a turbulent one - and the best remedy for that is sleep .'