EDITED: June 11th, 2023.


21 - Catch Me If You Can


I barely took a couple of steps forward when Harry's arm stopped me.

He took one good look at my face and knew I was dead serious. He faced me and tried to push me back.

Tried. He wasn't pushing hard. And I wasn't going to budge.

"Anya, calm down—" he started to say.

"I'm perfectly calm. Do I seem out of my mind?" Spying the rat had my blood boiling again. "I want it dead. After all the grief it caused, it's the least it deserves."

"It's just a rat, Anya!" Harry hissed.

No, it's not. The words got stuck in my throat. So many emotions bubbling in my stomach, so much anger—the need to snap was so, so tempting then and there. And Harry was with me. He would stop me if I went too far. So, what if killing the rat meant earning their wrath? It did not compare to all the pain it caused.

"Don't worry, Scabbers," Ron cooed. "The big, mean witch isn't going to hurt you—I won't let her."

CRASH!

The milk jug shattered. I regarded the broken pieces in disbelief, searching until I found the culprit: a black stone twisted like a snail. I followed its trajectory to the window, searching.

The anger was replaced by panic.

"Oh, no."

I started at Harry's yelp. He was rubbing the back of his head. Then he looked down at the floor, where an identical rock lay.

"What the hell?" He looked up. Spotted the same people I had. "Shite, we've got to go."

Hagrid stood, knocking aside the chair Ron had been occupying before. He was shaking harder, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"They are comin'... yeh gotta go, they mustn' find yeh here, go now..."

Ron shoved Scabbers into his pocket. Hermione ran for the Invisibility Cloak hanging at the rack coat. Harry seized my hand and pulled me to the back of the hut where another door awaited. Hagrid waited until Hermione threw the cloak overhead and opened the door.

Buckbeak's head turned to look in our direction. Feeling our emotions, he started pawing the ground.

"It's okay, Beaky," Hagrid said softly. "It's okay..." He turned to us. "Go on, get going."

The door closed behind us—and the other creaked open. We sprinted to the mountain of pumpkins close to Buckbeak, at the edge of the forest, and crouched behind.

We peered at the hut.

I spotted the axe first. Macnair had left it next to Buckbeak. It was enormous, the blade sharp and shiny. The creature remained unaware.

Cornelius Fudge's voice drifted towards us, monotonous, his speech rehearsed and unhurried. A tool, indeed.

A tree branch bobbed abruptly at the corner of my eye. I twisted.

The leaves swayed gently, growing still after a minute of staring. I squinted through the woods, but dusk had fallen—it was impossible to see anything in the near dark.

But I could've sworn...

"What?"

I shook my head.

"Nothing. I just thought I saw... nothing. Forget it."

"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered, tugging at my sleeve. "I can't stand it; I can't bear it..."

Ron cleared his throat. "Yeah..." He tugged the Invisible Cloak over us again and we started up the sloping lawn toward the castle.

Ron stopped us midway.

"Oh, please, Ron!" Hermione wailed.

"It's Scabbers—he won't—stay put—" He jumped, stepping out of the cloak's security. Ron's face twisted in pain. "Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron!"

The voices started again.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.

"Okay—Scabbers, stay put—"

When he didn't move, Harry ran out and pulled the back of Ron's sweater to haul him away, away from Hagrid's hut, away from what was going to happen—

"Go, go!"

Hermione and I started running, holding hands.

"I can't hold him—Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us—"

The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence. And then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

I stilled, wide-eyed. My jaw was trembling, my sight was blurring—

I turned. I wanted to see it. But Harry almost tackled us, shoving us further up the hill and letting Hagrid's hut fade from sight.

"They did it!" whispered Hermione hoarsely. "I d-don't believe it—they did it!"

A wild howl filled the air.

"Hagrid!"

Harry tried to run back. But it was Ron's turn to tackle him now. I ran out of the cloak and joined him, holding his legs down.

"We can't!" said Ron. He was paper-white like the rest of us. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him."

Hermione's breathing was shallow and uneven.

"How—could—they?" she choked. "How could they?"

Something warm and heavy crawled over my arm. Screeching, I released Harry's legs and slapped it off. Scabbers seized on the ground for a bit before rolling onto its stomach and escaping.

Crookshanks burst from the bushes, chasing after it.

"No, Scabbers! Get away, you stupid cat!"

Ron went in hot pursuit. I stumbled to my feet after him.

"Don't let it get away!" I screamed.

"What is wrong with you two?" Hermione cried shrilly.

"Get away from him—get away—Scabbers, come here—"

There was a loud thud.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat—"

I fell to my knees and tried to take a hold of Crookshanks, but he was sinking his claws on Ron's maroon sweater with a surprising strength.

Harry then appeared. Together, we were able to shove the cat away.

"Oh, this is going to hurt tomorrow," I complained, scanning my new scratches. "Dammit, just get a hold of him!" I snapped at Ron.

Ron, sprawled on the ground, managed to shove his pet inside one of his pockets but was struggling to keep him calm.

"Both of you—come on back under the cloak—" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore—the Minister— they'll be coming back out in a minute—"

She faltered. I took in her growing expression of horror, and followed her sight—

I swore.

The enormous dog crouched, gently paddling closer, its silver eyes glinting with malice as it bared its teeth. Its growl sent a shiver up my spine, and I instinctively stepped away from Ron.

It leaped.

The jet-black dog bounced on Harry's chest, taking him down with him and rolled to the side, straightening, and looking sharp.

I pulled out my wand and sent a stinging hex. The dog expertly dodged it, running around the scorched ground and fastening its fangs onto Ron's leg.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed. The dog was easily hauling him away from us, making its way to the Whomping Willow. I grunted, leaning heavily on my hands, and got up, sprinting after them.

"DUCK!" Hermione yelled.

She shrieked as a tree branch hit her right on the face.

Another branch appeared out of nowhere, heading right for me. I dropped to the floor, yelling when I landed on my arm. Then I had to roll because the same branch swung up and down. I kept rolling, like I had in P.E. class once, until I collided with a non-moving tree.

Harry was swept off his feet, throwing him back. Hermione was running towards the tree the dog was heading to, ducking the different branches tailing her—until one swung and hit her hard in the stomach, twisting around her waist and lifting her.

As she was thrown, she caught Harry's sweater and gravity pulled them both into the sky.

"HERMIONE!" I yelled. "Would Immobulus work?"

"What?"

"Would Immobulus—ugh, never mind." I ran closer and around the Whomping Willow, stopping when I found the perfect target.

Remember Tom's spell. Remember Tom's spell.

I wanted to close my eyes but that would be the stupidest decision. Breathing in and out, steadying my wand hand with the other, I pointed, imagined the way I wanted the spell to work, and said, "Immobulus!"

A spark shot out of my wand, becoming an electric net in the air that flew straight at the trunk of the willow tree. When it landed, current lines travelled up the wood to the tree branches, and the Whomping Willow froze at last.

It shuddered. My spell wasn't as strong as I wanted.

"Climb down, climb down!" I told Hermione and Harry.

Twin thuds rang. I jogged towards them, listening to Hermione say, 'Why did I not think of that?'

I rolled my eyes. "Good, you're complaining. That means you're alive." I leaned on my knees. They ached terribly and my legs wobbled.

It was fully dark now. The cloudy sky didn't help.

As if he had heard my thoughts, Harry said, "Lumos." His wand lit up, right in my face; blinded, I jerked back.

"Watch where you point that," I snapped.

Harry rolled his eyes. The three of us went to the tree trunk where Ron had disappeared. A large gap between the roots greeted us.

"Where do you suppose this goes to?" said Hermione nervously, her hand closing around Harry's arm tightly.

"I have a hunch," he said. "I just hope I'm wrong."

"Ladies first," I muttered, and jumped in.

"Anya, wait."

The earthy slope led me to the bottom of an underground tunnel. There, a little further into the light, waited Crookshanks, flicking his bushy tail.

"So, you did have something to do with the rat's disappearance, huh?"

Crookshanks didn't answer. We waited until Harry and Hermione joined us.

"That was stupid of you," Harry scolded me. "What if something was waiting here and attacked?"

I narrowed my eyes. "You git—you planned to go first!"

Hermione cut in. "Where's Ron?"

"Not here." I pointed at Crookshanks. "But he can take us to him, I guess."

"Crookshanks?" Hermione whispered uncertainly. "What are you doing here?"

"He's friends with that dog," said Harry, glancing at me. "I've seen them together. Come on—and keep your wand out—"

We walked through the tunnel, trailing after Crookshanks.

"Anya, that was your dog," said Harry suddenly. "He has been here for a while."

I snorted. "My dog? Yours and Marie's, you mean. It was the two of you that fed it."

"What I want to know is how he got here!" Hermione hissed, pushing between us. "You both live in Surrey, we are in Scotland. There's no way he could've followed you this far on its own—"

"Maybe it isn't Snuffles," I interrupted. "Maybe it's just a random dog from Hogsmeade. And it attacked Harry—Snuffles loves Harry. He wouldn't hurt him."

"We'll find out soon," said Harry. "Look—this tunnel leads off to Hogsmeade but Fred and George said no one's ever gotten into it."

After that, the tunnel came to an end and the only exit was an old, battered trapdoor. Harry paused, letting Crookshanks disappear through a small opening on the wood before he pushed the door open.

We edged forwards and raised our wands, lighting the way. We were standing in an old, dusty room. The paper was peeling off the walls and most of the furniture was broken to pieces. The windows were all boarded up.

"The Shrieking Shack," I whispered grimly.

"Ghosts definitely didn't do that," said Harry quietly, staring at one of the smashed chairs.

The ceiling creaked. Dust fell into my eyes. Rubbing them, I looked over at Harry and Hermione, both preparing their wands and walked up the crumbling staircase. Truly, we only followed the wide stripe lacking dust on the floor until we were a couple of meters away from the first door on the right, purposely left ajar.

"Nox," we whispered, and the lights went out.

There was a loud moan. Harry kicked the rest of the door open and dashed in, Hermione following close behind.

The room was vast and empty, except for a dusty piano and a four-poster bed at the wall. The windows here weren't covered, allowing us to glimpse Ron on the bed with a bloody leg.

I stayed at the doorway, freezing as it slowly started to move closed. Heavy breathing accompanied the motion, along with an awful odour that signalled something from the sewers had joined us.

My friends were still talking, throwing questions at Ron, ignoring his pointed finger in my way—

"Harry, it's a trap—"

"What—"

"He's the dog... he's an Animagus."

The door almost clocked me on the nose, but it didn't close entirely. Through the gap, I watched as a man dressed in rags and long, knotted hair limped toward my friends. I couldn't see his face, but I knew. I knew.

"Experlliarmus," he croaked.

I held onto my wand with both hands. Hermione and Harry weren't so lucky.

The man drew near.

"I thought... I thought you'd come and help your friend. Your father would've done the same thing... brave of you to not run for a teacher... I'm grateful. It'll make every much easier..."

Raggedy breathing.

"Oh, yeah?" Harry shouted. "To finish the job?"

He started forward, but Ron and Hermione held him back.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" Ron said fiercely. He tried to stand, but he crumpled down with a cry.

"Lie down," said Sirius Black, and this—a human trait at last— was what gave me the strength to do what I had to. "You'll damage that leg even more."

"You'll have to kill all of us!"

I pushed the door open, just as Black said evenly, "There will be only one murder here tonight."

"Why's that?" Harry spat venomously. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those muggles to get at Pettigrew—you didn't even care that you got your sister murdered!"

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY SISTER!"

Red flickered from the three wands in his fist.

"Why not?" Harry taunted. "It's true, isn't it? She died because of you. She went to my parents to make up for your mistake and got herself killed instead!" Harry turned to me, standing behind Black. "He killed your mum, Anya! He's the reason we're orphans!"

Black stilled. He turned slowly, as if the wind would have him crumble.

And when he looked into my eyes, my breath got caught.

Sirius Black was a walking corpse. Gaunt in appearance, skin stretched tightly over his bones, eyes wide in panic. Haunted by his mistakes. So human, even now, after everything.

Harry freed himself. He lunged at Black, fists ready, one landing on the man's head and knocking him down—

Hermione screamed. Ron started cursing and saying Harry's name.

Harry landed a few more punches before I got to him and yanked him aside. Winded, irrational, Harry couldn't fight my hold as I hauled him back.

"Harry, stop! You've got to stop!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!"

"HE DIDN'T!" I screamed into his ear.

My words echoed in the now quiet room.

"He didn't kill the Potters," I repeated, my voice quivering. I dragged Harry to where Ron had crawled to reach us. The redhead locked his arms around Harry's legs.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Harry snarled. "He killed my parents!" He pointed an accusing finger at Black, who was straightening to a sitting position. Black's eyes were already swelling, and his nose bled.

"I don't deny it," he said hoarsely. "I might as well have."

"SHUT UP!" I thundered. "SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!"

The remaining glass at the windows shattered.

"He sold them to Voldemort—"

"He didn't—"

"You don't understand," said Black.

"I understand a lot better than you think!" Harry fought our hold. "You never heard her, did you? When they died. Because I hear them, every single night. I hear my dad and Cassiopeia Black fighting to death. I hear my mum begging Voldemort to spare me. You did that! Because of you, because of you—"

Crookshanks streaked past us, leaping onto Black's chest. He settled there, turning yellow eyes on us, daring us to get closer.

"Get off," Black muttered.

"You're crazy," said Harry. And I thought he meant Black until he pinched my side. "You're crazy, Anya! What's gotten into your head?"

Oh, I dreaded feeling my collection of bruises and cuts next morning.

"Harry, for once, you will have to listen to me and listen well." I tugged at his hair. A shocked sound escaped him. "Sirius Black didn't get the Potters or my mother killed."

We stared at each other. Muffled steps came from downstairs.

Hermione shot forward. "WE'RE UP HERE! WE'RE UP HERE—SIRIUS BLACK—QUICK!"

The footsteps thundered up the stairs and the door flew open, revealing a pale Lupin with his wand raised and ready. He took in the scene before him, looking at each one of us before he finally settled on Black.

"Expelliarmus!"

The wands, forgotten on the floor, flew to his outstretched hand.

Lupin looked at us, then back at Black.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

My... uncle gaped at him. Then he lifted a finger, pointing at Ron.

Lupin's wand targeted us now, unintentionally I hoped, as the oddest of expressions crossed his face.

"But then why hasn't he shown himself before now?" he said lowly. "Unless—unless he was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?" Hurt laced his words.

Black nodded hesitantly.

Harry stepped forward, demanding, "Professor, what's going on—?"

Against all odds, Lupin lowered his wand. There was no hesitation when he offered Black a hand and brought him to a hug.

A sense of relief invaded me. Okay. This could work. This would make things easier.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed. She was pointing at Black, at Lupin, shaking so badly that she was backing closer to Ron. "You—you—"

"Hermione—"

"—you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down—"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you—we've been covering for you!"

"Hermione, listen to me, please" Lupin begged. "I can explain—"

"I trusted you and all the time you've been his friend!" Harry shouted.

"You're wrong," said Lupin desperately. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now. Let me explain..."

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too—he's a werewolf!"

The silence was deafening. I couldn't stand it.

"Well, that kind of spiralled, didn't it?"