Chapter 16: Pest Control
So there we were, back on the Knight Bus for Round 2 of There Was Only One Bed. It was the same one, on the third floor, at the very back of the bus.
"Where are the seatbelts?" demanded Artemis, looking at the bed.
"What's a seatbelt?" asked Sirius.
I cast my eyes up to the roof of the bus. "Well, looks like we're going to have to get cozy," I said. "Eleven sickles for this nonsense. Ridiculous."
"Well, I'm not sitting next to him," said Artemis, glowering at Sirius.
"Fair enough," said Remus.
So, Artemis sat at the foot of the bed, refusing to look at Sirius. Sirius sat at the head, and Remus and I were squashed together in the middle. Remus had his arm around me for support. It made me feel secure and warm in the midst of the chaos. I kept trying to think about the plan, but all I could think about was his face when I'd fallen on top of him, like the thirsty disaster I was.
At least Stan finally brought our hot chocolate. With extra marshmallows.
Sirius' haphazard disguise was surprisingly effective, especially considering that posters of him were plastered on the wall by the door. But he currently looked entirely too much like the lead singer of an emo band of dubious sexuality to be anything else.
We rattled along, sliding this way and that. It reminded me of being a kid piled in someone's car with a bunch of other kids. Except most of the times when you do that, you're not on your way to take down a murderer.
Most of the time.
Sirius peppered us with questions about Hogwarts—who was on staff, what had changed, all the gossip. He was dismayed to learn that Snape was on staff now, which made three of us. Artemis stared at the rattling bus packed with four-poster beds and a chandelier dangling from the ceiling, at the strangely-dressed witches and wizards coming back from a day by the shore or the shops in Diagon Alley. Three teenage girls had the bunk next to ours, and they were excitedly showing off their new threads and gifts they'd scored with their family. Two kids further down the line were playing Exploding Snap, so occasionally the cards would explode and scatter down the bus.
"I feel like I've wandered into somebody else's sleepover," she said. "Or maybe I'm just dreaming."
"You're taking it much better than I did," I said. "If it makes you feel any better."
"It does feel a little bit like a dream," said Sirius, leaning back against the cushions. At first, I wondered if he was flirting with her again (or if he was ever not flirting, for that matter), but there was a wistfulness in his tone that made me think otherwise. "Like being back in school." He turned towards Remus. "Do you remember that night we stayed up till one in the morning trying to teach the chess pieces guerrilla warfare?"
"We never did find them after that," said Remus. "From what I hear they're still hiding up there, occasionally coming out to stab people in the ankles, to this very day."
"I've always thought boarding school would be kind of awful," said Artemis. "But you make it sound fun."
"More fun than being at home, that's for certain," said Sirius, bitterly.
"You've never talked much about school," said Remus, looking at me thoughtfully.
I shrugged. "Well, I was homeschooled. There wasn't much to talk about. I mean, we were able to do a lot of the normal stuff. Sports. Field trips. Prom. Band. Drama club. Home was nice. I didn't have a lot of friends, but that was just because I was weird."
"And here you're always telling me how normal you are," he teased.
"I mean I'm normal in that I can't talk to people in fireplaces or shoot fireworks out of a wand," I said. "Although I did get pretty good at launching them."
Artemis snorted. "Normal?"
"Hey, I'm not the wolf whisperer here," I said.
"Oh, I think you are," said Remus, in a voice that made the blood rush to my face and blank out on the conversation for a bit.
"What about you, Artemis?" asked Sirius. "What was your school like?"
Artemis raised her eyebrows. "Some of us don't peak in high school," she said.
Remus and I both went "ooh," like teenagers.
Sirius winced. "Point taken."
"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I forgot about the—well, your, uh, tragic backstory."
"Don't be," he said, with a rueful, strangely soft smile.
Artemis looked back at him, as if she was revising her initial opinion of him, ever so slightly.
And let me tell you, it was weird, sitting in the middle of whatever the heck was going on with them.
Now that our minds were all wildly off the main quest, the bus skidded to a halt outside of Hogwarts. We piled off, and hotfooted it through the crowd of students sorting themselves out at the bottom. Sirius darted into a cluster of trees to transform. A minute later, a black dog came bounding out of the bushes.
"Thor almighty," said Artemis, with a shudder. "I almost forgot he was the dog. Don't like that at all."
We stopped for a breather just inside the castle door.
"Where's McGonagall?" asked Remus.
I pulled out the map, and then said, "She's right there."
Three cats were clustered around the statue of Godric Gryffindor—Mrs. Norris, a large orange cat with a squashed-looking face, and an elegant tabby cat with spectacle-like markings around the eyes.
The cats, who appeared to have been having a nice chat with each other, turned to look at us.
Artemis cried out as the tabby cat transformed into Professor McGonagall. "What in the blue blazes?" she said, taking in Artemis and the dog. She looked at the dog again, and her eyes hardened. "In my office. Now. All of you."
We were there in a flash. She slammed the door behind us and locked it. Then she folded her arms and stared straight at Mr. Shadow, AKA Snuffleupagus, AKA Sirius Black.
"Do you really think I wouldn't notice that three of my students were becoming Animagi, Sirius?" she said severely.
"That was mostly for the Dementors' benefit," said Remus.
Sirius transformed back into himself. His body language was still that of a dog with his tail between his legs. "Please, I can explain."
Even though Sirius was a little taller than McGonagall, she still gave you the impression that she was looking down at him. "You ruined the Halloween faculty rager," she said. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've felt relaxed enough to let my hair down?"
"You let your hair down?" said Sirius, casting a pointed look at McGonagall's tight bun. "Wait—there's a faculty rager?"
"Of course there's a faculty rager," she said. "What do you think it is that we do when you're not around?" She surveyed us all in turn, as if deciding on whom to cold-call in class. To my horror, she turned to me. "You. You're the sensible one. How did you get mixed up with this lot?"
Fortunately, if it's one thing grad school prepares you for, it's explaining ridiculous things in a vaguely sensible manner. I launched into a confused explanation of our predicament, with occasional interjections from Sirius.
She leaned against her desk and turned to Remus. "If it weren't for the fact that Ophelia seems to be in support of all this nonsense, I'd be inclined to suspect, Remus, that you've been in league with Black all along. But your attention seems to have been decidedly elsewhere," she said with a meaningful look at me.
I gave a sort of embarrassed half-smile. Remus blushed. Sirius snickered.
She sat down on top of her desk, her pointy-toed shoes dangling. "Now, show me this map of yours."
Having somehow become the keeper of the map, I handed it to her. "You have to say, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.' And point your wand at it."
She snorted. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she said matter-of-factly.
I made the mistake of looking at Remus, and we both snickered.
She unfolded it and examined it. "So this is how you've managed to cause so much trouble all these years," she said. She looked as if she was torn between being angry and impressed. "Where did you say you saw him?"
"Gryffindor Tower."
"Hmm." Then her brow furrowed. "Ah. There he is."
I leaned over her shoulder to look.
"Peter Pettigrew." She shook her head. "And to think I felt so sorry for him, when he died—or thought he died. Because I never did like him all that much." She looked up at Remus and Sirius. "You do realize we'll need to capture him alive, if you want any hope of proving your innocence?"
Sirius gave a growl of dismay. She fixed him with her fiercest glare. Which is terrifying, in case you're wondering.
"Yes," he said quietly.
"We've got to get him away from the students," she said. "That's where I come in, I think. And my friends."
She clicked her tongue, and Crookshanks and Mrs. Norris hopped up on the desk. With a shock, I realized they'd been in the room the whole time. And I could have sworn they had been listening.
"You go after him first," she said to Crookshanks. "Mrs. Norris and I will chase him to my quarters. It's the nearest secure location. Remus, you follow after him—make sure you're not seen, and make sure he doesn't get away. Sirius and Ophelia, you wait here and spring the trap on him. We'll follow."
"Sirius doesn't have a wand," interjected Remus.
Artemis snickered.
McGonagall got down from her desk and rummaged in the top drawer. "Here," she said, handing him a small wand. "I always keep a few spares for students that lose them. You can start by casting a shield charm on Ophelia and her friend. Make sure you seal off the room as soon as he's inside. Oh. That reminds me." She pressed another button on her desk. A magical lock appeared. She tapped a complicated pattern on it, and a secret compartment popped out. She reached into the compartment and pulled out a small gun that looked like it was from the 80s. "I've been keeping these for Ophelia ever since she shot the Basilisk."
"You shot a basilisk?" said Sirius.
"Yeah," I said, checking to see if the gun was loaded. "Where'd you get this?"
"My late husband gave it to me during the war," she said.
Remus, Sirius and I exchanged glances. McGonagall had a husband?
McGonagall had turned to Artemis. "What about you? Can you shoot?"
Artemis shrugged. "I brought the tranquilizer gun. Don't know if it'll kill him or knock him out. Depends on how big he is."
"Small," said Sirius.
"Good," said Artemis, examining the gun. "Then it'll probably kill him."
There are few things more terrifying than a skeletal ex-con making genuine heart eyes at your bestie when she declares herself down for murder.
"I'd better do the shield charms," said Lupin, pointing his wand at us. "How long has it been since you last used magic, Sirius?"
"Twelve years," said Sirius dismally.
Lupin cast the protective charm over us. He reached out and touched my hand. A golden shimmer spread out from where his hand touched mine. Which was kind of how it felt all the time, really. "That should hold," he said. He looked up into my eyes. "Be careful."
"You too," I said.
McGonagall touched Artemis' hand, examining the same golden shimmer. "Well, it's a good thing we have a competent defense against the dark arts professor, for once. Come on, Remus."
And with that, they were gone.
Sirius stalked around the room, casting a sealing spell over as many openings as he could. "You take the alcove by the window," he said, gesturing to a spot hidden from view of the door. "Artemis, you stay behind her."
"Why?" said Artemis belligerently.
"It's more obvious that you're not a wizard," he said.
"Does that matter?"
"Wizards are racist against non-magic people," I said, taking her by the arm and moving us into the alcove.
"Dark wizards, especially," said Sirius. "He won't hesitate."
I put my hand on her shoulder. "There's no shame in leaving."
"I'm not leaving you alone." she said. "Especially not with this crazy bastard."
I knew better than to argue with her. I closed my eyes for an instant and prayed that she'd be safe. Then I moved so that at least I'd be in front of her. I felt a little ill as I realized we were basically driving a serial killer into a trap.
We stared at the half-open door, trying not to breathe.
It seemed like years went by. Finally, we heard sharp squeaks echoing down the corridor, followed by the hissing of cats.
Several things happened almost at once. A rat darted across the threshold. Sirus shot a blast of blue light at him, the same spell Remus had used to force him to transform. McGonagall in cat form darted across the threshold, followed by Crookshanks and Mrs. Norris and Remus. The rat turned into a man. Sirius yelled "Stupefy!" which is really a silly name for a curse, if you think about it. He missed. Artemis pushed me aside and yelled "duck!"
McGonagall's stunning spell and the tranq dart hit at about the same time. The rat-man collapsed.
Then, an unfamiliar voice gave a cry of rage. Someone barreled across the room, straight for Sirius. "You killed my mum and dad!"
It was Harry. I wasn't really thinking, just acting on instinct. As far as I thought about anything at all, my plan was to tackle the kid before he got to Sirius. I leapt in front of him. There was a blinding flash of light. For a second, I thought I was toast. But the shield charm held.
I found myself staring down a thirteen-year-old with murder in his eyes, which is honestly one of the scarier things I've experienced. Remus grabbed him from behind, pinning Harry's arms to his sides as he struggled to get away. "Harry, he didn't kill them," said Remus. "Listen to me."
Two more children came through the door. "Where's Scabbers?" cried Ron.
McGonagall rounded on them. "Get out of here! All three of you."
"No," said Remus. "Harry has a right to know."
"I'll take them," said Artemis. She grabbed Ron and Hermione by the hands and more or less dragged them out of the room.
McGonagall was casting what looked like several layers of complicated spells over Pettigrew. By the time she was finished, he was contained in a bubble-like cage of magic, like the one Remus had conjured for Sirius, but stronger, and there was a certain whitish glow surrounding him.
"That will keep him from transforming," she said, surveying her work with grim satisfaction.
"What about the dart?" I asked.
She examined Pettigrew critically. "Well, he's not dying. But I imagine it will be a while before he tells us anything. Sirius, you're going to have to come with us."
"Please," said Sirius, his voice growing frantic. "I can't go back to Azkaban."
McGonagall turned to him. "I won't let them take you. I swear to you. But we need to have a record of the truth."
"What truth?" demanded Harry.
Remus and Sirius started explaining to him. I summoned Dumbledore and Pomfrey via the Floo network. Then the authorities showed up, and everything was chaos. McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Sirius apparated to the Ministry of Magic along with the caged Pettigrew and the wizard cops.
"We'll go by Floo network," said Remus. "We'll probably get shunted off into a waiting room, but I'd rather be nearby."
I ducked out to tell Artemis where we were going.
Artemis was sitting on a bench by the window, talking very earnestly with the two other kids, Ron and Hermione. Ron's eyes were red, as if he'd been crying.
"Where's Crookshanks?" Hermione asked, in a panicked voice. By process of elimination, I assumed Crookshanks was the other cat.
"You know, I think McGonagall took him," I said, surprised. With the way things had been going, I sincerely hoped Crookshanks was an actual cat and not a person in disguise. "I'm sure she'll bring him back soon."
"Ron and Hermione should come with us," said Remus, who was still keeping an eye on Harry. "They may want to ask you some questions."
"I'm sorry," I said to Artemis. "You'll have to stay here, because if they find out we told you, we'll be in big trouble."
"Okay," she said, clearly not happy.
"You're welcome to hang out in my room," I said, handing her the key. "It's up in the faculty tower. Go all the way down that hall and then up about four flights of stairs. They should bring food around dinnertime. If not, you can go to the Great Hall."
She pulled me out of the way to show her, and then she whispered "I told the kid his pet rat died heroically trying to protect him from the rat bastard. No kid should have to deal with the fact that their pet was secretly a criminal in hiding for their whole life."
"Got it," I said. "Good thinking." I looked at her anxiously. "You gonna be okay?"
She shrugged. "I'll manage."
We left Artemis at Hogwarts and made our sooty way through the Floo network. We emerged, coughing and spluttering, at the Ministry of Magic. It was a severe, eerie place, exactly the sort of place you'd expect to dish out the dubious justice of the wizarding world, all glossy black bricks and greenish lighting.
"There you are!" A middle-aged Ministry official was hurtling towards us. He went straight for Ron. "Oh, Ron!" he said, hugging him fiercely. "We've been so worried."
"I'm all right, Dad," said Ron, with all the mortification of a thirteen-year-old being shown affection.
The Ministry official stood up. "Arthur Weasley," he said, one hand on Ron's shoulder as he extended the other one to me. "I'm to take you to the offices for questioning."
"Wait," I said. "Weren't you the family who's kid got possessed by Voldemort last year?"
"Ehm, well, yes," he said.
I pressed my lips together. "Look, not that it's my business or anything—except that it seems to end up being my business, somehow—but when was the last time you like, talked to your kids?"
In my defense, I can only say that it had been a very stressful day. I heard Remus utter a strangled exclamation of dismay. Anger flashed over Mr. Weasley's face. He opened his mouth, and said "Now, really—" and then deflated.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sure y'all are dealing with a lot right now."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "You're right." He looked down at Ron. "If I'd been paying more attention to what was going on right under my nose, you wouldn't have been in danger."
Ron looked uncertain. "It's okay," he said.
"No," he said. "It isn't. But I'll try to do better."
He hugged him again, and then led us up to the department of magical law enforcement.
Our time in the lands of officialdom was kind of a blur. They questioned everyone about everything several times over. The tranquilizer had thrown Pettigrew, and he confessed to everything.
Pettigrew's confession I do remember. We crowded in to face him in his holding cell after he regained consciousness, all of us, even the children. There was an iron barrier between us and Pettigrew. Remus and Sirius were at the front, and I was standing beside Remus.
Twelve years as a rat had intensified Pettigrew's rat-like appearance. His teeth and nails were long and yellow, and his tattered, overgrown moustache drooped down off of his face. "Sirius! Remus!" he cried. "My old friends!"
"Friends?" said Sirius, in a dangerous, low growl. "Tell them," he said. "Tell them just exactly how you treat your friends. How you sold Lily and James to their deaths. How you sent me to Azkaban for twelve years."
"I had no choice!" whimpered Pettigrew. "The Dark Lord—you have no idea how powerful he can be. What would you have done?"
"I would have died!" cried Sirius. "I would have died rather than betray them!"
"I'm not as strong as you," he whimpered.
"No," said Remus, coldly. "You were always drawn to those who were bigger and stronger than you. And you didn't hesitate to change loyalties when you found someone bigger." He took a step closer. "Tell me. What was your promised price?"
"Only to serve at his side," cringed Peter. "I knew nothing could be gained by resisting him."
"And to think," said Remus. "I was fool enough to grieve for you."
"Please," whimpered Peter. "Have mercy. Help me."
Remus shook his head. "I see now that the man who I respected, the man who was my friend, is dead. I've done my mourning, Peter. Twelve years of it."
Remus turned away from him.
"Tell Harry," said Sirius, in a commanding tone I'd not heard him use before. He brought Harry to the front.
Remus put a protective hand on Harry's shoulder, watching Pettigrew like a hawk. "Tell Harry why his parents are dead."
Pettigrew searched the crowd for help, our faces obscured in the dim light. He found none. His shoulders slumped, and he began his sordid, pathetic tale. Since the bulk of it is already told, I see no reason to go into it again, but they needed the full record for the court.
The tale was, by now, familiar to me, and yet I shrank from the pain of it. They had been young, so young. And I was worried about Harry. What had we been thinking to bring the children with us? Would it help? Would it give him some closure? Or would it make things harder?
I watched him throughout Pettigrew's confession. He seemed to be bearing up remarkably well. That was what worried me. At least the desire to murder seemed to have gone out of him, somehow, in the confusion of transferring his hatred from one object to another. Pettigrew was such a contemptible, wretched creature. You couldn't hate him in the same way you could the phantom Sirius Black.
Finally, it was over. We floo-powdered blearily back to Hogwarts around 2 in the morning with Sirius and his parole officer in tow. McGonagall had insisted on an official trial for him as soon as possible. No one can withstand the force of McGonagall, so it was scheduled for the day after tomorrow. He was allowed to stay at Hogwarts, as long as he didn't leave the grounds.
When I got back to my room, I found Artemis sprawled out on top of my bed. I didn't blame her. There was no knowing when I'd be back, and nowhere else really for her to be. But there's no sharing a bed with Artemis. She kicks.
I groaned, and went out to see if I could catch Remus before he got to his room. I did—just barely.
"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you," I said, stifling a yawn.
"I like it when you bother me," he said, with a sleepy smile.
"I don't suppose you could like, conjure up a sleeping bag or something?" I asked. "Artemis is in my bed."
"I can," he said. "But you can sleep in my bed. I can camp out in my office."
"No, I can't let you do that," I said, waving him off sleepily.
"Please," he said. "It's the least I can do."
I was vaguely embarrassed, but too tired to argue, and the prospect of any bed sounded really great right about now. "Okay. Thank you."
I followed him inside.
"Just let me get my things," he said, going into the bathroom.
I sat on the side of the bed and took off my shoes and socks. "Where did they put Sirius?" I asked as Remus came out of the bathroom.
"They put him in the room the Minister of Magic usually stays in," he said. "It's the most secure."
"I suppose he deserves it," I said begrudgingly. "Can't imagine Azkaban was very comfortable."
"No," said Remus.
"You don't have to leave, you know," I said, watching him rummage in a chest of drawers. He turned around to look at me. "I mean—I don't want to sleep with you—I mean I do, I just wanna be awake for it." I rubbed my face, feeling vaguely that this didn't make much sense.
He looked at me with his head on one side, as if he also wasn't really awake enough to be making decisions. "You're sure you don't mind?"
"I'm sure," I said, settling myself into the bed.
"Okay," he said softly. He took out his wand, and conjured a red and gold sleeping bag, and laid it on the floor parallel to the window seat.
I burrowed under the covers, clothes and all.
Remus walked over to me, and gently arranged the blankets around me.
"Thanks," I said.
He bent down and kissed me on the forehead. "Good night," he murmured.
"Good night," I said back, feeling warm and safe and sleepy.
He waved his wand over the fire, dimming it until it was a red glow of embers. Then he wriggled into his sleeping bag, his head towards me.
I watched him wriggle into the sleeping bag, his head towards me. And then I was asleep.
