EDITED: June 11th, 2023.


22 - The Innocence of Sirius Black


Lupin ran a hand down his face, sighing. He was the picture of defeat.

"How long have you known?"

"Ages." Hermione's eyes flickered in my direction. "After Snape's essay. I checked the moon charts, the symptoms—your boggart was a big giveaway too. But I didn't confirm it until..."

Everyone looked at me. The look in their eyes made me feel small. Then I reminded myself that wasn't the point.

Lupin waved a hand at me. "And you?"

"Since." I clenched my jaw. "But I confirmed it after I found out he'd been posing the same damn work to all levels." The amount of people I had to threaten, including Hermione. The favours that would be exchanged in the unclear future. Purebloods valued those the most, more so coming from me. My name gave me that advantage.

"And you didn't say anything."

I shrugged. "You're a damn good teacher. It wasn't our business." We were running out of time. I could feel it. "Never mind that—how did you know to come here? Now?"

"Because he's been helping him!" Harry snapped. He pointed at Lupin and Black, face contorting with hatred. "You helped him get inside the castle, didn't you? Both times you helped him inside—he almost killed Ron!"

Behind Lupin, Black made a strangled noise. He covered his face with both hands and wandered to the piano bench. Crookshanks jumped to his side as he sat. His body shook silently.

He was crying. Crying but not making a single sound. How many years did it take to perfect that?

"No, I did not," said Lupin calmly. "I wasn't even sure what was going on until I arrived." He opened his palm and stepped forward. "Here. Take them."

When no one moved, he separated each wand and threw them at its owner. He pocketed his wand and lifted his arms.

"You're armed now. We" —he nodded at Black — "are not. You can take us to the castle and hand us over to Professor Dumbledore. Let the rightful authorities manage this. Or you can listen to our story, see what you can make of it. It's your choice."

A heavy pause. Hermione and Ron were exchanging glances. Harry was still glaring at Black, but he wasn't on the offensive anymore.

"If we take them to the castle, they will set the Dementors on you. Both of you," he said. "They will sweep you under the rug. Like they did Cassie Barton." Harry turned to me. "They won't tell us anything."

He had questions. I could see it. I had them too. If he said 'no', I wouldn't fight him. I could, but I was so tired to fighting.

"It's your choice, Harry." I gestured at Hermione and Ron, then at myself. "We will follow you."

He took a deep breath.

And nodded.

"Answer her question," he told Lupin. "How did you find us?"

"The map. The Marauder's Map. I was examining it—"

Harry cut him off. "You know how to work it?"

The sound that followed startled us all. It was like a saw trying to cut metal. It grained on my ears.

Laughter. Black was laughing.

"Of course, he knows," he rasped. "He wrote it. We wrote it. He's Moony, and I'm Padfoot."

My head whirled. "Then James Potter and Peter Pettigrew—"

"—are Prongs and Wormtail." Black's lips curled up in distaste. "I gave them those names. I never thought... how fitting it would be."

"I was watching you four," said Lupin, picking up speed. "I had the idea you might sneak out to Hagrid's before his hippogriff was executed. Perhaps you would use James' old cloak, the way we did, still as traceable as all those years ago. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Four people went in, but five came out."

"What? No!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes. It's been seventeen years since we last used the map, but it was there, plain as daylight. Those names, that name. I could only watch as Sirius Black collided with you and took two of you."

"Two? He only took me!" Ron exclaimed.

"You—and Scabbers." Lupin's eyes shone gold in the dark. "But that wasn't the name stuck to yours." He stepped close to Ron. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated but reached inside his robes, holding the struggling rat by its tail. Crookshanks hissed but it was overpowered by the sound of Lupin's rumbling. He stood so still Ron started to fidget.

"What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," said Lupin.

"What d'you mean—of course he's a rat—"

Black jumped to his feet. "Let's get over with the dramatics, Remus." He stomped over to Ron and trust his hand under Ron's nose. "The rat is Peter Pettigrew, our old mate. Hand it over."

Told that way, it sounded nuts. I found myself copying Lupin's exasperated gesture.

"They are nutters," Ron declared. "Mental. Pets can't be humans. Harry, let's just go."

But he was the only trying to move.

"Guys?"

"Witches and wizards can transform into animals, Ron," said Hermione. "They call themselves Animagus, remember? We saw it at the beginning of the term with Professor McGonagall."

"But Scabbers, Peter Pettigrew? That's ridiculous!"

Harry was squinting at the floor. Hermione's eyes flickered between all of us.

"You blew up Peter Pettigrew twelve years ago," said Harry. "There were witnesses!"

"All they saw was two men arguing and one big explosion," said Black flatly. "A big jump from one thing to another."

"Pettigrew talked about my parents—"

"—about how I betrayed them? Yeah, I was there. Peter turned the tables on me when I got to him." Black pinched his thumb and forefinger together so tightly it looked more like a fist. "I was this close. So close to catching that bastard. But Peter got the better of me. He knew what to say, the spells to mask his exit. And the finger!" Black laughed. "He cut off his bloody finger and left it at the scene, knowing the Ministry wouldn't investigate beyond that. But then someone did, and you know what happened?" He snapped his fingers. "They ambushed him. Tortured Barton to death. And then there was no hope. No hope."

The burst of life he'd showcased twinkled out. Black was left standing expressionless, eyes lost.

"Sirius," Lupin called behind him. He was watching Black closely. "They need to understand what happened. They've got a right to know everything. Ron's kept Peter as a pet. There are parts of this story even I don't understand. Anya needs closure with Cass's death and Harry—you owe Harry the truth."

"I've waited too long, Remus," Black whispered.

"Please—"

I felt Black's outburst before it occurred. It started deep from his chest and the spark of life flared in him once more.

"I DID MY WAITING! TWELVE YEARS OF IT—IN AZKABAN!" Black deflated again. "Twelve years, Remus. You don't know what that was like. But all right. I can wait a couple of minutes longer."

He went to lean against the wall and Crookshanks stuck close. Neither cared for the five other people watching them.

Hermione spoke up. "Professor Lupin... Scabbers can't be Pettigrew... it just can't be true, you know it can't..." She said this hesitantly, as if talking to a child.

"Why can't it be true?"

"Because... because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. The Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on Animagi; there's a register showing what animals they become, and their markings and things... and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list—"

"Neither was Black's and James Potter's," I voiced. "Because they did the process without supervision."

"They could've killed themselves," Lupin agreed, and there was a thread of fondness in his words. "But they wouldn't abandon me. They knew werewolves didn't harm Animagi. It took them years to get it right. And the Ministry never found out three unregistered Animagi ran around Hogwarts."

"Three underaged idiots," I muttered.

A creak downstairs had us on alert.

Ron whimpered. "This place is haunted."

"It isn't," Lupin said, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted... the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me. That's where all of it starts—with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten... and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

•••••◘◘◘◘•••••

Harry listened to Lupin with one ear while the other monitored Black's movements. The prisoner kept to his corner. If it weren't for his raggedy breathing, Harry would've thought he'd died.

His anger hadn't abated but he didn't want to strangle the man anymore. Sirius Black, in the end, was a pitiful man regardless of his innocence. Harry couldn't find it in himself to injure a man who would soon be kissed by the Dementors.

Because Black would receive the Kiss. He hadn't lied to Anya when he said they wouldn't get a chance to know the truth. Lupin had voiced it too.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days, there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform... I'm able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again."

"The Wolfsbane potion," said Anya, and Harry looked at her. She'd been pacing on her own space, much like Lupin, thinking to herself. Next to Black, she seemed to be the more informed. Harry wondered when she'd had the time to cram in that between Buckbeak's case and their exams. "Natasha was listed as a collaborator of the Wolfsbane Potion. Rumour has it she kickstarted the idea when she was a Hogwarts student. She did it for you. And you played lab rat for her, didn't you?"

Black jerked at that. Even Lupin cleared his throat, trying to not look at anyone in the eye. Trust Anya to touch a nerve.

"Perhaps," he said delicately. "One can never tell what her true feelings are."

Or what she knew. Harry now had an inkling of what Anya felt for that woman. If she knew something of this, why hadn't she gone to the authorities the way Alec Barton had? Had she been afraid of meeting a similar end? Or was something else at play? Everything about Natasha Rosenberg was suspicious, especially her lack of involvement.

Lupin told them the rest of his past. How he was bitten as an infant. How, with his condition, he would never be acceptable company. But Dumbledore thought differently and offered him a place at Hogwarts. The precautions they took, how the Whomping Willow and the Shrieking Shack came to exist—to Harry, the more he spoke, the sadder Lupin's story became.

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, four great friends."

Sirius and Cassiopeia Black, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter. Four brilliant people who always looked for each other and that included Remus Lupin. They didn't fail to notice his monthly absences and, according to Lupin, it was Cass who discovered his secret first.

"She hugged me," said Lupin, his eyes drifting to Anya. As if she were Cassiopeia Black herself. "She hugged me and told me I was very brave. And then she slapped me for thinking she and our friends would desert me. 'You're too noble', she had grumbled, 'perfect Gryffindor you are'. She wasn't wrong. Just like you, girls, they worked out the truth and tried to find a way to help me. That's when they discovered becoming Animagi was the key."

How could they do it? They were just children; not even grownups could manage the full transformation.

Lupin's tale took a bitter tone. Harry caught it at once, and he was aware Anya had too. He tried to see it from Lupin's point of view: five tight friends who knew all each other's secrets reaching out to a stranger, trying to not let her in too much. But when did Thea Rosenberg's knowledge stop being enough? Their only hope was her cousin, Alec Barton.

And he helped them without consequences. He asked nothing in return, unlike Thea, who wanted James Potter to be her Transfiguration tutor. This was how their friendship began. But each time Lupin said Alec's name, Harry detected his dislike for the dead man.

"All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led other along with me... and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so, I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it... so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

Black came alive. "Snape? What does Snape have to do with it?"

If he'd thought Lupin disliked Alec Barton, it did not compare to the hatred in Black's voice as he spat Snape's name.

"He's here, Sirius," Lupin said. "He's teaching here as well. Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons... you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me—"

Black snorted and said, "It served him right. Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to... hoping he could get us expelled..."

"He was just a kid," Anya snapped. "Of course, he'd want to get the upper hand on you!"

"You defending him?"

Anya's voice was cold. "No, but I'm starting to see a pattern. "

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month," Lupin explained. "We were in the same year, you know, and we—er—didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field... anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be—er—amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it—if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf—but your father, who'd heard from Cassie what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life... Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was..."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you because he thought you were in on the joke?" said Harry slowly.

"That's right."

•••••◘◘◘◘•••••

A ripple in the air behind Lupin. One moment it was the ugly paper wall. The next, it was Snape, holding Harry's invisible cloak and pointing his wand at Lupin.

Hermione screamed.

"Oh, great," I said.

This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. Of all people that could've come to witness this madness, why did it have to be Snape?

Triumphant, Snape tossed the cloak away. "I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow. Very useful, Potter, I thank you..."

How did he know our location though? Unless—

"You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" My eyes snapped to his face, tensing. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a goblet along. And very lucky I did... lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus—"

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout—"

"Severus, you're making a mistake! You haven't heard everything—I can explain—Sirius is not here to kill Harry—"

Snape's voice rose. "Two more for Azkaban tonight! I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this... he was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin... a tame werewolf—"

Lupin's face fell. His voice was soft and incredulous as he said, "You fool. Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG!

I screamed. Ropes—thin and snake-like—shot out of Snape's wand and wrapped themselves around Lupin's mouth, arms, and legs, causing the man to stagger and fall.

"What do you think you're doing?!" I jumped away from the wall, starting toward Lupin as Black gave an almighty roar of fury.

I froze, though, when I felt this significant pressure on my forehead.

"Give me a reason, I beg you." I met Snape's eyes. There was a desperation I'd never seen before in them. "I swear I'll do it."

"Not if I take you first," a voice croaked. Behind him, Black pressed a wand—Lupin's—to Snape's lower back.

This wasn't good. One move could set Snape off—and he would, he would attack. It didn't matter I was a student. Snape was far too gone on the high of having Black captured.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" I hissed.

A sizzling burn startled me. I jerked away, but Snape followed.

"I am not in the mood to tolerate your insolence, Barton!" he snapped.

"Professor Snape," Hermione started, timidly and shaking. "It—it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat out. "You, Potter, Barton, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

"But if-if there was a mistake—"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

His wand pressed on my forehead harder.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed, a tiny smirk twitching on his mouth. "I've thought many ways to hurt you, and this is the perfect one. Doesn't she look like your sister, Black? From the moment I saw her, I knew she would be exactly the same as you—arrogant, reckless, a downright menace! A ticking bomb, waiting to explode, just like her—"

"You're pathetic," I said. Snape froze. "These men lived in hell, but you? You had the chance to live the way you wanted. Instead, you wasted half your life hating them and a dead man. You were bullied, yeah, but you didn't grow beyond that. You took it out on children, and now, you're holding a student at a wand's end." I scowled. "I can't even pity you."

"I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN LIKE THAT!" Snape roared. The violent shaking made him probe harder into my skull. "Not from a worthless, blood traitor like you! Step away, Black, or I'll do it."

Black's jaw clenched but nevertheless took a step back. "I'll come quietly, Severus. As long as that boy brings that rat and you let Anya out of this," he warned.

"Up to the castle? I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black... pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay..."

That got Black's attention. Wand shaking, he raised his arms back in a non-threatening way.

"Do I detect a flicker of fear? One can only imagine what it must be like to endure the Dementor's kiss. It's said to be unbearable to witness," Snape smirked. Finally, his wand left my head. "But I'll do my best."

"You have to hear me out! The rat—look at the rat—"

Snape pretended not to hear him.

"Come on, all of you. I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too—"

He turned. But Harry intercepted him, blocking the door. Snape's lips curled.

"Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already! If I hadn't been here to save your skin—"

Harry cut him off. "Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year. I've been alone with him loads of times, having defence lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," Snape hissed. "Get out of the way, Potter."

"ANYA'S RIGHT—YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN—"

"LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON, POTTER!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black—now get out of the way or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

His small distraction was all it took.

Three different voices yelled, "Expelliarmus!" The spell hit him on the chest and blasted Snape into the wall above the room's bed. The walls rattling was the only warning we had before the canopy and curtains fell on him.

"Is he alive?" I asked.

Black made to check on him, lifting the curtains. Snape was still, but his chest moved up and down.

My uncle hummed. "Pity."

Hands turned me around.

"You alright?" said Harry quickly, eyeing me.

I rubbed my forehead. "Did he leave a scar?"

"It will heal."

"Curse him and his ancestors," I hissed. I felt around the burn, feeling the scab already.

Hermione was entering panic-mode.

"We attacked a teacher... we attacked a teacher... Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble!"

"What are you talking about? The one who's going to be in so much trouble it's him! He held me at wand-point! He left me with a scar!"

I focused on that. This short-timed temper. It gave me the energy and the courage to approach Lupin and untie him. Black soon joined me, and while he was efficient (and truthfully, I was making more knots than actually freeing Lupin), I did my damnedest to ignore him.

I peered at his fingers. Black with sooth and dirt and blood, they were long and thin. A peek at my own proved the same. Except for the size, they were nearly identical. Proof that we were blood-related.

I didn't feel like the slap-on-the-face it was when I met Andromeda Tonks. Our similarities had been eerie, but I got over them quickly. It wasn't the same with Black. We shared a couple of traits but… that was it.

He was my mother's twin brother. Identical twins, supposedly. But we looked nothing alike. That meant I looked nothing like Cassiopeia either.

I drew away abruptly. A couple more tugs from Black and Lupin was freed. Massaging his throat, he managed to sit up.

"Thank you."

"I'm not saying I believe you," Harry snapped.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," Lupin said. "You, boy—give me Peter, please. Now."

Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest, eyes darting to everyone.

"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean... okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat—there are millions of rats— how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question." Lupin turned to Black, frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"

Black put one hand inside his clothes and took out a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it flat and held it out for everyone to see.

It was the Weasleys. Most importantly, it was the photograph from the Prophet, the one that showed them in Egypt. Black's finger tapped Ron's head—pointing straight at his shoulder.

I squinted. The picture was too grainy. In all honesty, I wouldn't be able to tell it was Scabbers if Ron's shoulder hadn't suddenly looked bigger and hairy.

The fact Black could was a testament to the man's mind. He was sane and sound.

Lupin couldn't grasp this idea too. He seized the photo from Black and stared down at it incredulously.

"How did you get this?"

"Fudge," said Black. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page... on this boy's shoulder... I knew him at once... how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts... to where Harry and Anya were..."

Lupin leaned closer—only to draw back violently.

"My god," he whispered. His eyes jumped from Scabbers and back to the photo. "His front paw..."

"What about it?" said Ron defiantly.

Once again, Black tapped the photo. "He's got a toe missing. Peter cut it off before he transformed, remember?"

"Cuts don't heal but they can be cauterized by the transformation process," said Lupin over his shoulder.

"He had it all planned. He knew I would come for him. I followed him all over his hometown, Apparating from place to place. When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself—and sped down into the sewer with the other rats..."

"Yeah, that was all they found from Pettigrew, but Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right—"

"Twelve years, in fact," Lupin said. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We—we've been taking good care of him!" Ron argued.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he? I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again..."

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" Ron said, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.

"That cat isn't mad," Black said. He stroked Crookshanks' head, making the cat purr even louder. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me... Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me..."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't... so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me... I believe he took them from a boy's bedside table..."

"From Neville's." Everything was starting to get in place.

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it..." Black croaked. "This cat— Crookshanks, did you call him? -told me Peter had left blood on the sheets... I supposed he bit himself... Well, faking his own death had worked once..."

"And the one who got the burn was Hermione," I muttered.

"Why did he fake his death then?" Harry asked angrily. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No, Harry—"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," Black grunted.

Lupin simply threw his arms in the air.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted.

"Harry," Lupin said hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents and Anya's mother, and Peter tracked him down—but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father—Sirius tracked Peter down —"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE! HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP! HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!" Harry shouted, pointing at Black.

Black smiled. It was the type of smile that you gave when you couldn't quite believe something happened. A bitter quirk of the lips.

"You haven't asked the most important question," he said suddenly. "Why my sister died that night alongside your parents."

Harry and I shared a look.

"Because she found the truth about you," said Harry.

"Even if I were guilty, how? How did she figure out the Potters would be betrayed that night?"

"Because..." I swallowed. "Because they were best friends."

Black nodded grimly. "Go on."

Harry shot me a bewildered glare.

"My mother was best friends with Peter Pettigrew. And" —I remembered Natasha's letter— "he told her. He told her everything."