"ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ, ꜰᴏʀ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇꜱ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ. ᴛʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ."
― ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ ꜱʜᴀᴋᴇꜱᴘᴇᴀʀᴇ, ʀᴏᴍᴇᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜʟɪᴇᴛ
Chapter Twelve: The Prisoner
And furious, she was.
All of the remaining students had been assembled in the Great Hall; the House tables had been shoved hastily to the sides of the room and the benches placed on top of them so that no one could sit down in their usual places. Instead, every student who entered the Great Hall had to sit down on the floor, until the last stragglers filed in and Filch set a heavy bar over the door.
Now this, thought Harry grimly, is a hostage situation.
On cue, Lavender Brown let out a high-pitched squeak of terror.
The Inquisitorial Squad members were all sitting in a neat line in the very front row; Harry looked at Dumbledore's empty chair and did not feel heartened in the least.
Umbridge's chair was empty, too, but unfortunately, she was present, walking up and down with the Black Quill in her right hand, dressed from head to toe in scarlet tweed.
"Now, Theodore Nott has just had a very harrowing night in the Hospital Wing," began Umbridge in a sweet tone, and instantly, whispers began to rise.
"Silence!"
The whispers petered out.
"Professor Snape tells me that he appears to have suffered the effects of Weedsoros administered... what was it, Professor?"
"Through the skin," said Snape through gritted teeth.
"Through the skin, yes. Causing all sorts of horrible convulsions."
Theodore, thought Harry, looked none the worse for wear, sitting beside Blaise and looking rather well-rested.
"Although Professor Snape was fortunately able to swiftly administer the antidote, the perpetrator must be held culpable and punished. Don't you agree, students?"
There was a lag in response, but a resounding 'YES!' starting at the front row and filtering down to the students behind them followed. Harry's stomach turned inside out.
"Trial by jury has never been a method of teaching employed at Hogwarts," said McGonagall, standing up. "If you would refer the student whom you speak of to their Head of House —"
"—Well, you see, Minerva," Umbridge began, with a menacing step towards McGonagall, "your methods clearly do not keep the students' behaviour under control."
"And what methods do you propose?" asked McGonagall.
Umbridge smiled. "He's a known troublemaker, so the punishment will have to be severe. This cold-hearted, sadistic, cruel boy who inflicted such punishment on a fellow student. Incurably criminal. Unimaginable selfishness and violence at this school has been encouraged for far too long."
Before anyone could say anything, Daphne Greengrass leapt to her feet. "It was Harry Potter who attacked Theodore, Professor Umbridge!"
"Seconded!" called Pansy Parkinson.
Ron got to his feet, too. "Nott cast first. And you weren't even there, Parkinson, so shut up!"
"Dolores," Snape drawled, "With all due respect, as the most junior member of the staff, I advise you to defer to Professor McGonagall's wisdom. She has dealt with countless... disagreements between students over the decades, some far for serious that this one."
Is Snape... actually defending me?
"See!" Ron threw his hands up. "Even Snape thinks it's ridiculous."
"Five points from Gryffindor. Weasley, sit down."
"This is unnecessary," said McGonagall, austere and imposing, tall and dignified, the exact opposite of Umbridge. "Mr. Potter is in my House. This is an issue that be easily solved. And if Mr. Nott truly did instigate the altercation..." She trailed off. "I suppose a dousing of Weedsoros is sufficient punishment."
Umbridge was silent at that. Then, very deliberately, she crooked her finger and beckoned someone forward from the crowd.
They stood up; a familiar head of dirty-blonde hair, accompanied by the scuff of bare feet. Lovegood.
"Yes, Headmistress?" Harry could only see her back, and she shook like a leaf in an autumn storm.
"Where are all of the Muggle-born students, this morning, dearie?"
The egress from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had been much, much more clandestine than Lupin retrieving the Gryffindors. But Ravenclaw had almost as many Muggle-borns as Gryffindor; Umbridge must be hoping to learn something in her favour. Besides, Lovegood, Harry assumed, was likely pure-blood herself.
Lovegood cleared her throat nervously and began to speak in a dreamy, but dignified voice.
"I don't know, Headmistress. Perhaps the Gulping Plimpies abducted them. Did you know that Minister Fudge cooks goblins alive and makes them into pies?"
A wave of nervous laughter went through the crowd.
"Does he really?" asked Harry. At this point, he was willing to believe anything.
" 'Course not," said Ron, but he seemed a little unsure himself.
"Maybe the Dementors got them."
To his surprise (and everyone's) Theodore Nott had gotten to his feet.
"There were rumours going around," he said loudly, spreading his arms wide as if to encompass the entire hall. "Maybe they all walked out and took their chances."
Ron's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
Why... Oh, he's protecting Lovegood.
I suppose he does have a heart somewhere after all.
"Besides, we'll find them sooner or later if they're hiding. They have to eat." He tipped his head in Harry's direction, and opined sweetly, with the air of a martyr: "And I forgive Potter, by the way. Please don't punish him, Headmistress. Come here, Luna."
Theodore held his hand out to her graciously.
Snape shot Harry a dark glare.
"Forgiveness nonetheless: Potter, you'll be scrubbing cauldrons after dinner every night until the end of term."
"Yes, Professor Snape," said Harry, very eagerly.
He'd take scrubbing anything over the Black Quill, Harry thought. And now, Umbridge could hardly complain about sufficient punishment. Snape's ire was a blessing in disguise. Defeat had been accepted, for Filch was already unbarring the doors, and it looked like breakfast might proceed as normal.
"We're lost," Ruby declared, flinging down the map, and then herself after it. It was a cloudy day, so there would be no hints from the direction of the sun at least until sunset. "You know all sorts of blasting spells but not how to conjure a compass?"
"Do you know how to conjure a compass?" asked Tee in a sneery voice. He pointed his wand at a patch of grass with a sort of flourish, leaving a bald patch of ground. Tee squatted in the dirt, scratching out symbols with his fingernails.
She certainly didn't know how to conjure a compass, but that was beside the point anyway, Ruby thought, just suddenly reminded of Tom Riddle's heavy ring jostling against Lily's Time-Turner.
"Is that a sundial?"
"There's no sun."
"Oh. You're right."
He tapped his wand to the bare patch of ground, and it began to spin rapidly back and forth, much like a compass needle.
"East is that way." Tee tilted the map accordingly, aligning it with one of the symbols. "So Godric's Hollow is only five miles away."
So close? The thought was mildly terrifying.
Tee quirked an eyebrow, as if he had heard her. Ruby patted the pocket of her coat to make sure Nott's monocle was still there. It was.
Perhaps she had merely spoken aloud.
Although he'd been strange lately, whispering, of all things, to the locket from the cave.
"Not having second thoughts, are you?"
"No," she said shortly, with a shrug and a glance at the muddy horizon.
Thankfully, Tee had finally given up on wearing his uniform, swapping it out for a grey t-shirt with a band's name on it, an orange anorak, and black slacks which he'd picked out himself in Camden Market, an outfit which drew much less suspicion. His hair had grown out, shaggy, loose curls almost tickling the nape of his neck, though unlike most boys his age, he didn't have the slightest hint of facial hair. Altogether, he looked completely different from the dead boy in the Chamber of Secrets nearly a year ago; less creepy porcelain doll, more unusually attractive alt kid, the kind that doodles anarchy signs in their notebooks.
A year.
It had been nearly a year since she'd seen Harry.
The loneliness of it was a constant itch, a persistent feeling of not-right-ness that would not leave her alone, try as she had to ignore it. And now, going to Godric's Hollow, without Harry; well, it just felt wrong.
"Let's go," said Ruby, getting to her feet.
Unlike Little Hangleton, which they had come upon in the night, nestled between two hills, the land here was flat and Godric's Hollow thus could be seen from quite far away; the collection of small buildings started off the size of pinpricks and grew gradually larger and larger. She squinted, trying to imagine that she could remember it all, but she couldn't.
When had she and Harry been separated, anyway? What chance did she have of remembering it? Of remembering their parents?
Keep going, thought Ruby, trying to focus on the weight of the necklace and the village in front of her, and nothing else. Just keep going.
The main road of Godric's Hollow was narrow and unpaved. No cars were going up or down it; but few people were walking their dogs and sitting outside of what appeared to be a cafe. Almost every building was the same, all little cottage-type houses in an almost Elizabethan style; it was the quaint kind of place that looked like it belonged in an illustrated children's book.
Without a second thought, she followed Tee inside a cafe, the warm air a welcome respite from the chilly early spring weather and tinged with scents of coffee and cinnamon.
"I'll have a latte, please," Ruby told the barista. "With the vanilla syrup, and, umm, the whipped cream on top too, please."
She could hear Tee scoffing behind her, especially after she shuffled over to sit down near the window, warming her hands and wondering if her parents had ever sat there too. In fact, she almost didn't realise why she was staring at everyone who came in; she was expecting one of them to.
After the cafe, they started off towards the cemetery; until Tee demanded, "Stop!"
In a harsh whisper, he added: "Someone's following us," and then pointed in a very non-discreet manner to a tiny old woman in an enormous black coat.
"Of course not, Tee, she's only going on a walk."
"She just happens to be wearing a stropholos." At Ruby's confused look, he rolled his eyes, gritted his teeth, and condescended to tell her that a stropholos was a symbol of witchcraft.
The old woman stepped around them and gave them both an evaluative glance, her foggy eyes magnified at least twice by her enormous spectacles. The woman must have been very old indeed, for her skin had a papery, transparent old, dotted with liver spots and criss-crossed with innumerable wrinkles. The brass stropholos hung about her neck glinted; but she shook her head and crossed the street without a word.
"Do you think she recognised me?" asked Ruby in a fearful whisper.
"Doubt it. She looked absolutely batty."
Tee put his hands in his pockets and exhaled. A few seconds later, he was fumbling for a cigarette.
Behind the small church was a graveyard, in which stood a large yew, made of twisted and gnarled trunks all grown together, its boughs heavy with blood-red berries. A fluffy, plump robin stood perched on the branches, singing with all its might.
Ruby foisted off their belongings on Tee and climbed onto the lowest and stoutest branch to pick handfuls of them; it wasn't high enough, fortunately, to trigger her fear of heights. The red aril, she remembered from Snape's lessons, was safe enough, but the seed, along with every other part of the tree, held a deadly toxin; although it could be made into a medicine, too.
"Those are poisonous," said Tee, as if she were an idiot.
"I know," said Ruby, annoyed, tying them up in a handkerchief with tight little jerks, but Tee had gone off somewhere, brushing dirt off of a tombstone. Ruby went over to see what he could possibly find so interesting.
ARIANA DUMBLEDORE, 1885-1899
KENDRA DUMBLEDORE, 1851-1899
"He told me about Ariana," said Ruby softly. "I didn't know she died."
"He didn't tell me," said Tee, and at Ruby's frown, he shook his head.
I suppose he must remember more than he lets on, thought Ruby, eyeing him suspiciously as she moved away from the tombstone.
The sun was just beginning to set; like an egg cracked against the horizon, warm colors spread out around it, staining the sky every colour between orange and coral. The pink rays fell upon one of the tombstones closest to the yew tree; a simple, white marble stone.
Silently and solemnly, Ruby moved towards it, her eyes glued to the tombstone. The words engraved on it made her breath catch in her throat.
ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪʟʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ
ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴀʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴏʏᴇᴅ ɪꜱ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ
They're really dead.
Of course they were dead. They had been dead all her life; or at least all of her life that she could remember. And now they were under her feet, silent forever.
She sniffed, and then realised she was crying. Ruby rubbed the tears off her face with her sleeve, not wanting Tee to see.
"What's that?" asked Tee.
Ruby turned. He was pointing at one of the look-alike cottages, which she had not noticed before. Mostly, it was intact, though covered in a thick wall of ivy, like the sleeping castle of Briar Rose, except for the right side of the second floor, which had a large chunk taken out of it, angry and jagged like a bite from a monster's jaw. The hedge was long overgrown, and the grass around it strewn with rubble.
She did not have to read the placard in front of the building to know who this house had belonged to; yet, Tee still read it aloud.
"ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ, ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ 31 ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 1981, ʟɪʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ. ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜱᴏɴ, ʜᴀʀʀʏ, ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴡɪᴢᴀʀᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ, ɪɴᴠɪꜱɪʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇꜱ, ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ɪɴ ɪᴛꜱ ʀᴜɪɴᴇᴅ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴏɴᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ."
"I'm going to go inside," said Ruby, somewhat shakily. And, in case he didn't get the hint, she added: "You should stay out here."
The narrow gap in the hedge was just big enough for her to squeeze through. Quietly, she went up the two stone steps, and turned the cold handle of the door.
Standing on the threshold, she was certain now that it was not haunted. The carpet in the hallway was nowhere near as dusty as the Riddle House had been; still, she stepped carefully down the hallway.
"Lord Voldemort. Th' most dangerous Dark wizard o' all time. Started th' First Wizardin' War. He's the one who killed yer parents. Gave yeh tha' scar, Harry."
She nearly lost her balance, leaning on the wall to steady herself.
A draft was coming from the door next to her. Curious, she eased the door further open, and stepped inside.
The windows were all intact; she could even see Tee, orange anorak and all, lurking around the hedge. The fireplace was filled with ashes and the blue sofa was going to pieces, and the bookshelf was filled with dust, but it was a cosy, inviting room. She stepped away and squinted at the sofa, trying to imagine her parents, twelve years older than the pictures, sitting on it along with her and Harry.
The draft, she realised, was coming from the stairs. Deliberately, she placed her hand on the bannister and began to ascend, each carpet-covered step creaking and groaning beneath her feet.
All of a sudden, she was standing in the nursery, the open, cloudy sky above her, and a wooden crib before her, blankets askew. A poster remained tacked to the wall, covered in what looked like a children's alphabet (A is for Alchemy, B is for Broomsticks...), each letter with a moving picture sketched above it.
The wooden floorboards were bare save for a couple of rugs and a strange circle of chalk runes beneath the crib; furniture had been flung against the wall as if Lily had barricaded herself in and Voldemort had burst in nonetheless.
How scared she must have been, Ruby realised. If Lily had died here, that meant James had died downstairs; perhaps even in the peaceful living room she'd just been standing in. Had she heard James die?
For the first time, she was grateful that she'd lost her scrying marble. She never wanted to watch her parents die. Perhaps spirits would trouble her no more.
A pair of hands seized her by the neck; before she knew it, the hands were crushing, and she was gasping, thrashing, tearing at them in a blind panic. The edges of the room darkened, and her lungs screamed for breath.
Is this how I die?
Suddenly, the hands retraced and she slumped to the floor, relieved and gasping for breath.
But a finger was still looped around her necklace, pulling her head up with it.
"Is this some kind of sick joke?" spat out a gravelly, deep voice. There was something familiar to it. Haughtiness.
"You're the one who followed me!" snapped Ruby. "And get your grubby hands off my necklace!"
The tugging relented. "What do you mean, your necklace?"
Finally, she got to her feet, stumbling on her shoelaces.
Her attacker was a man with a waxy face, and long, matted hair, perhaps slightly above average height. He had a frame like a starved dog; sunken cheeks decorated by a rough five o'clock shadow, skeletal wrists underneath his plain black wizard's robes.
"Who are you?" asked Ruby warily, backing towards the door, her hand inches from her wand.
"I thought you were the rat in disguise and you'd stolen it," said the man, the distaste towards 'the rat' clear in his tone.
"Who are you?" she demanded again. And then, she took a deep breath, and screamed "TEE! TEE!"
"Stop it, you'll warn the Muggles!"
"What if I want to warn the Muggles? And what are you doing in my parents' house, anyway?"
The man's bloodshot eyes widened. Ruby imagined they would pop out of his head and go splat against the floor.
"You— you— you're Ruby?"
"Good guess," she snarled, and followed up with one of Dudley's favourites; a roundhouse kick to the balls, but the man side-stepped her.
"I'm Sirius Black—"
"—The betrayer," said Ruby softly. "Cosy in Azkaban?" she taunted.
She felt sick to her stomach. This was the reason her parents were dead right in front of her, the reason they'd had to live at the Dursleys, the reason this room had been torn apart.
"I am not the one who betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort. If someone will just let me explain—"
"Oh, explain why you were strangling me? No, thanks!"
"I told you, I thought you'd stolen Lily's necklace—"
"Likely story!"
Ruby wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by the sound of feet on the stairs, and Tee emerging soon after, snarling and bristling, wand drawn.
"Look," said Sirius, with an uneasy glance at Tee standing behind her, "I was following you. I'm an Animagus, you see, that's how I was able to keep sane in there —" He stopped. "I'm rambling. What I want to do is to tell you the truth, Ruby, about how your parents died."
"Voldemort killed them," she said, emboldened by Tee's presence, and the words were so sharp that she felt she might cut her tongue on them.
"If I was a Death Eater and I had just figured out who you were, I would have finished you off," said Sirius. "Voldemort wants you dead."
Something in her stilled; Tee let out a weird noise.
Dead? Of course he wants me dead. Blood of the mother. He has to finish what he started.
"Talk, then," said Ruby, crossing her arms. "If you didn't betray my parents, what happened the night Voldemort turned up here?"
Tee, unbidden, stepped forward.
"I can show you," he offered, extending a hand to both her and Sirius. "I'm a Legilimens."
Why is he so interested in seeing it? But nonetheless she placed her palm against Tee's cold, long-fingered hand, and with a wary expression, Sirius did the same.
Ruby closed her eyes, and colours burst beneath her eyelids.
Two young men were sitting on the steps of a skinny bright blue house in Bristol amongst a row of similarly-colourful houses. Ruby glanced behind her; there was Sirius, foggy around the edges, and Tee, eyes screwed shut in concentration, seeming to flicker in and out of reality.
This must be a memory.
She drew closer. They looked barely older than Tee; early twenties, probably, all dressed in Muggle clothes, sitting huddled close together, heads leaned on shoulders, arms wrapped around each other. They had clearly been close for a long time.
"Dunno why you insist on living out here in this hovel, Sirius," said one of the men, scrawny and tall with a face full of scars that looked like they'd been made from the claw slashes of an animal, and pale, keen green eyes like a wolf's. He was dressed in a shabby, dark brown jumper patched at the elbows, and mousy brown hair that looked like he'd cut it with a hatchet in the middle of the night.
"It's not a bloody hovel, Moony," insisted the one on his left; very handsome, slightly shorter but well-built, with long, thick glossy black hair tied back in a ponytail that glinted in the weak sun, lounging on the step with an air of casual, aristocratic elegance. "I was driving Effie crazy at the Potter's; she'd never say it to my face, but I've long overstayed my welcome."
Sirius, Ruby thought, with a strange, sudden jolt. Sirius Black. She looked uneasily between the ragged, gaunt man to his younger counterpart. It was something like the difference between a living person and a ghost.
"Full moon tonight," said Moony suddenly.
"You should get going, then." The younger Sirius stood out, and stretched languidly, yawning. "Peter will be expecting you."
"Remus Lupin," Ruby whispered under her breath. "The werewolf."
She glanced over at Sirius, who gave her a short nod. The rims of his eyes were collecting with tears, as he stared fixedly at Moony, who was breathing on his hands to warm them.
"Right then," said Moony, glancing up at the younger Sirius. "I'll see you after the full moon."
"As always."
The two men embraced, as if they feared not seeing each other for a very long time. Moony stepped away first; he flashed a quick, warm smile, then spun on his heel and disappeared with a quiet 'pop.'
The surroundings flickered. Tee had opened his eyes, glowing a terrible bright white, bright as Harry's when he was fully shadow.
"To the next one?" he asked of Sirius, and his words seemed to echo against the sky.
The world was rent with a deafening crack, and then, their surroundings had changed again. The sky was velvet black, now, the full moon glowing like a mournful, ghostly beacon in the star-speckled sky.
A loud clap of thunder resounded; green-tinged ball lightning ricocheted against the sky. Ruby cringed in fear, despite herself.
The rain sheeted down on all three of them, but seemed completely immaterial.
Younger Sirius came stumbling out of the hedge and through the gate blown off its hinges; the roof of her parents' house was already torn apart, and Ruby knew instantly what he had seen. Tears streamed down his face, and he screamed, loud as the thunder, terrible and anguished, clutching something to his chest as sobs racked his body.
"I'll kill him!" he growled, still clinging to the strangely-shaped object. "He'll pay for this!"
Just then, the object began to writhe and scream.
"Sirius, th' baby!"
Ruby turned at the sound of a familiar voice; Hagrid, a little younger, his beard a little less wild but his stature just as enormous, stood in front of a large, black motorcycle.
"I'm sorry, Harry," said the younger Sirius, adjusting the bundle in his arms. Ruby wondered how he intended to drive the motorcycle with Harry in his arms, as he sat astride it. "I'm so sorry," he sobbed out, overcome. "I couldn't save them! I failed them! I failed you!"
"Yeh did what yeh could, Sirius," said Hagrid comfortingly, laying an enormous hand on Sirius's closest shoulder.
"Alright, alright," said Sirius, looking down at Harry. "Remus is indisposed; I'll take Harry to Bristol and then make sure he and Ruby are alright, the Death Eaters don't know where I live." His expression darkened. "I'll deal with him later."
"You-Know-Who is dead, Sirius," said Hagrid softly.
"Oh, it's not Voldemort I'm after." Sirius fastened Harry into the sidecar and revved the engine, his posture slumping. "Let's go home, Harry."
"Dumbledore said Harry is ter live wi' th' Dursleys, Sirius. Ruby, too. Yeh'll have ta take him ter Little Whinging—"
"Like fuck I'm taking him to live with that colossal bitch and her brute of a husband!" snarled Sirius. "I'm his godfather!"
Hagrid lowered his voice. "Dumbledore says Lily cast a spell, Sirius, before she— she—" He sniffled. "It'll protect Harry from You-Know-Who, if he ever comes back ter go after him."
Sirius swung his leg off the motorcycle, frowning. "Oh, Lily," he said softly. "Blood magic." He offered the handlebars to Hagrid. "Take it. I won't need it anymore."
And, without a second glance back at Hagrid, younger Sirius twisted his neck, and transformed into a shaggy, black dog. For a few seconds, he put his nose to the ground, searching for the scent. The dog looked up, with the blazing red eyes of a hellhound, and sped off, paws thumping against the wet ground. Hagrid called out after the dog, but he heeded not, snarling, ears flat against his head as he hunted down his prey.
Tee did not open his eyes again, and so, Ruby took off after the dog, running as night turned to dawn, and dawn turned to early morning. She didn't know how far the tireless dog had run, for her seeming only minutes away, but all of a sudden, East London was around them.
The dog dashed into an alleyway, shook out its coat, and all of a sudden, young Sirius was in his place once more, drenched to the bone with rainwater. Ruby glanced around, but saw neither Sirius nor Tee.
Young Sirius stumbled out of the alley and onto the busy street, his face a mask of fury as he advanced towards his prey, and Ruby realised who he had been tracking, all along.
In front of her stood the Death Eater who had been disguised as Scabbers, the one she and Harry had faced that night in the Hospital Wing, the one who had been helping Lockhart open the Chamber of Secrets.
In his youth, he was a plump man with a friendly, round face, no taller than she was, with fine hair not far off from Moony's colour. He, too, was wearing Muggle clothes, and holding an umbrella.
"You traitorous bastard," growled Sirius, as furious and wild-eyed as the dog had been, though his voice was soft; Ruby trembled to look at him. "Lily and James are dead because of you! You were their Secret-Keeper! You were meant to protect them with your life!"
The Death Eater, Peter Pettigrew, merely tilted his head, the rain sheeting off the sides of his umbrella. "Handsome Sirius, wealthy James, clever Remus. But I'm the one who won—"
"I would have rather died than betrayed my friends to Voldemort!" He choked out the words, and Ruby thought he was close to tears once more.
The Death Eater chuckled. "Too true. You were always so rash, Padfoot. So honest, so brave, even in your moments of cruelty. When you took their hiding-place into your soul, I knew you'd never give it up unless you thought someone else would hide them better. Why do you think I would encourage them to keep the switch secret? Silly Sirius."
Sirius's face contorted in something between grief and rage. "Fight me like a man, Peter! Kill me, then, kill me like you killed them, look me in my eyes and KILL ME!"
"Oh, I will. No one will believe you. Not even Remus." Peter pointed his wand towards his neck.
"You killed them—"
"THIS MAN BETRAYED THE POTTERS TO VOLDEMORT!" bellowed Peter, his voice magically magnified, echoing down the street. People turned in surprise, some coming closer, others inching away.
With a cruel smile that looked out of place on his kind face, Peter said something inaudible, and orange light burst from his wand, sending the pavement up in a spray of masonry and metal. For a moment, her vision was dust, but when it cleared, Sirius, who had backed away from the blast, was cut up all over, bleeding and trembling. Before him lay a macabre sight; a headless child in a blue dress, a hand wearing a watch, legs buried under stone.
She was going to be sick. Her stomach seized, and she bent over, retching as she clutched at the shattered ground.
Sirius had fallen to his knees, blood streaming down in rivulets from the cuts in his face, mingling with the tears. A severed finger lay before him.
He began to laugh; harsh, bark-like, hysterical.
"AH-HAH-HAH - AH-HAH-HAH - AH-HAH-HAH - AH-HAH-HAH—"
And then the ruined nursery was blurring back into reality all around her. Tee sat down heavily, breathing hard and running his hands through his hair. The sky had darkened outside; keeping them inside the memory must have taken hours and an enormous amount of concentration.
"So it was Peter all along," said Ruby, regarding Sirius, who was now sitting on the floor, too.
"Yes," croaked out Sirius. "That's what I've been trying to tell everyone."
"You didn't have to strangle me, though," said Ruby indignantly, rubbing her neck. "I suppose you tracked us here."
"Yes." Sirius swallowed. "Why aren't you in Hogwarts? And who's he?"
"It's a long — kff — story," said Tee.
Sirius shrugged.
"It's a good thing I found you," he said. "Voldemort wants you dead."
Ruby exchanged a glance with Tee. One near-death experience after another, it seems.
She shrugged, too.
"What's new?"