We stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cloak. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. Then, behind us, we heard a wild howling.
"Hagrid," Harry muttered. He made to turn back, but both Ron, Hermione, and I seized his arms.
"We can't," said Ron, who was paper-white. "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?"
I was so shocked, I couldn't even speak.
"Come on," said Ron, whose teeth seemed to be chattering. We set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep ourselves hidden under the cloak. The light was fading fast now. By the time we reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them.
"Scabbers, keep still," Ron hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, You stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!"
"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute —"
"He won't — stay — put —"
Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ron's grip.
"What's the matter with him?"
But I had just seen — slinking toward us, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness — Crookshanks. Whether he could see them or was following the sound of Scabbers' squeaks, I couldn't tell.
"No, go away, Crookshanks, go away!" Hermione pleaded, but did Crookshanks listen? Of course not. Actually, does any cat listen? This is exactly why dogs are better than cats. Dogs actually listen. They're very obedient. I could probably debate for hours about why dogs are better than cats, but that's beside the point.
Anyway, for some reason unknown to me, Scabbers decided to flee the safety of Ron's grasp and tried to dart away. Crookshanks began his pursuit. Before we could stop him, Ron burst out of the Invisibility Cloak and chased after him, pelting into the darkness.
I finally found my voice. "Ron, no!
I exchanged a look with Harry and Hermione. We followed at a sprint. It was impossible to run full out under the cloak, so we pulled it off and it streamed behind us like a banner as we hurtled after Ron. I could hear his feet thundering along ahead and his shouts at Crookshanks.
"Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —" There was a loud thud. "Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"
Harry, Hermione, and I almost fell over Ron. We skidded to a stop right in front of him. He was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in his pocket; he had both hands held tight over the quivering lump.
"Ron — come on back under the cloak —" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore — the Minister — they'll be coming back out in a minute —"
But before we could cover ourselves again, before we could even catch their breath, we heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws... Something was bounding toward us, quiet as a shadow — an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.
Remember what I said about dogs earlier? Put those words on a plate, because I need to eat them.
The dog had made an enormous leap and the front paws hit Harry on the chest. He keeled over backward in a whirl of hair. But the force of its leap had carried it too far. It rolled off him.
The dog recovered and skidded around, looking for a new attack. I rushed forward, whipping out my wand. As the dog sprang back toward them I pushed Harry aside and aimed a kick at the dog. Ron tried to hurl himself at the dog, but the dog's jaws fastened instead around Ron's outstretched arm. Harry and I lunged forward, he seized a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as though he were a rag doll.
I leaped to my feet, but out of nowhere, something hit me so hard across the face I was knocked off my feet again. I heard Hermione shriek with pain and fall too. Harry fell beside me with a thud.
"Lumos!" I heard him whisper.
The wandlight showed us the trunk of a thick tree. We had chased Scabbers into the shadow of the Whomping Willow and its branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop us going nearer.
"You've got to be kidding me!" I exclaimed.
At the base of the trunk, the dog was dragging Ron backward into a large gap in the roots — Ron was fighting furiously, but his head and torso were slipping out of sight —
"Ron!" Harry shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped lethally through the air and he was forced backward again. I tried to stay low, away from the branches, but it was a lost cause.
All we could see now was one of Ron's legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground — but a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ron's leg had broken, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight.
I stood, staring in horror.
"Harry — we've got to go for help —" Hermione gasped; she was bleeding too; the Willow had cut her across the shoulder.
"No! That thing's big enough to eat him; we haven't got time —"
"Harry — we're never going to get through without help —"
Another branch whipped down at them, twigs clenched like knuckles.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," I said, "But I think Harry's right this time. I won't hesitate to act if the dog tries anything. You know that, right?"
Hermione glanced in the direction of the pocket where my bow and arrow keychain was hidden and sighed. "I know."
Harry didn't say anything. I nodded at him, and we assessed the scene before us, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but we couldn't get an inch nearer to the tree roots without being in range of the tree's blows.
Crookshanks darted forward. He slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk. Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or
shook.
"Crookshanks..." Hermione was nearly speechless. "How did he know to do that?"
"He's friends with that dog," Harry replied grimly. "I've seen them together."
We covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before we'd reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick of his bottlebrush tail. Harry went next, then Hermione. I followed and crawled forward, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from Harry's wand.
"Where's Ron?" Hermione whispered in a terrified voice.
"This way," said Harry, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks.
"Where does this tunnel come out?" I asked breathlessly from behind him.
"I don't know... It's marked on the Marauder's Map but Fred and George said no one's ever gotten into it... It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade..."
We moved as fast as they could, bent almost double; ahead of them, Crookshanks's tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage. It was creepy, and uncomfortable, running at a crouch, but I sensed that something big was about to happen, something I knew I didn't want to miss, so I continued. All I could think of was Ron and what the enormous dog might be doing to him. Harry was drawing breath in sharp, painful gasps in front of me and I knew soon we'd have to stop so I could take a look at him, assess the damage.
And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Ahead I could see a patch of dim light through a small opening. We paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. We all raised our lit wands to see what lay beyond.
It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.
Harry glanced at Hermione, who looked very frightened but nodded. Harry looked at me, and I imitated hermione. neither of us were planning on backing out now.
We climbed out of the hole, staring around. The room was deserted, but a door to our right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Hermione's wide eyes were traveling around the boarded windows.
"Harry," she whispered, "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack."
I looked around. My eyes fell on a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.
"Ghosts didn't do that," I said slowly.
At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. All three of us looked up at the ceiling. Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.
We reached the dark landing.
"Nox," we whispered together, and the lights at the end of our wands went out. Only one door was open. As we crept toward it, we heard movement from behind it; a low groan, and then a deep, loud purring. We exchanged a last look, a last nod.
Harry kicked the door wide open.
On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of us. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron.
We dashed across to him.
"Ron — are you okay?"
"Let me see your leg, maybe I can — "
"Where's the dog?"
"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, it's a trap —"
"What —"
"He's the dog... he's an Animagus."
Ron was staring at something behind us. I wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind us.
He was just as I'd seen him when I'd come face-to-face with him the last time. A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black.
"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at us.
Our wands shot out of our hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry.
"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful... it will make everything much easier..."
I could almost feel the hate radiating off of Harry. He started forward, but Hermione, Ron, and I grabbed him and held him back.
"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to Black.
"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.
Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes. It was the same strange expression he'd worn when he'd recognized me.
"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."
"Don't you dare act all nice," I snapped at him. "Take one step closer and I promise I'll end you."
"End me," Black said, amused. "Like you were planning to the last time we met?"
"Last time?" Harry said. "Ash, what's he talking about?"
"When -- when he broke into Gryffindor Tower that last time, I had a dream about it. I saw him running away, I followed him--"
"You what?" Ron exclaimed.
"I tackled him and grabbed his knife. Then he tried to act all innocent -- like he actually cared about me and my mom-- "
"Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione asked.
"Because this is my fight," I told her. "I didn't want to drag you all into it."
"He killed my parents!" Harry said, rounding on me. "That makes it my fight, too!"
"Don't turn your back on him!" I exclaimed, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You won't be able to see him if he attacks. Not that I won't murder him on the spot if he--"
"Only one will die tonight," Black said with a sadistic grin.
"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron, and Hermione. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew... What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"
"Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet!"
"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and with a huge effort he broke free of our restraint and lunged forward.
Apparently he'd forgotten about magic — he'd forgotten that he was short and skinny and thirteen, whereas Black was a tall, full-grown man. And perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn't raise the wands in time — one of Harry's hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backward, into the wall.
Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry's face by inches. Harry clung on, his other hand punching every part of Black it could find, but Black's free hand had found Harry's throat.
"No," he hissed, "I've waited too long —" The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew.
"Oh, no, you don't," I muttered, rushing forward and kicking Black as hard as I could. Black let go of Harry with a grunt of pain; Ron had thrown himself on Black's wand hand.
Harry fought free of the tangle of bodies and threw himself toward it but Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harry's arm; Harry threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted toward Harry's wand —
"No you don't, demon cat!" I shouted, aiming a kick this time at the said cat, which made him leap aside, spitting and hissing. I grabbed the wand and threw it to Harry, who caught it.
"Get out of the way!" he shouted at Ron, Hermione, and I.
We didn't need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up her and Ron's wands. Ron crawled to the four-poster and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching his broken leg. I simply stood and watched.
Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at Black's heart.
"Going to kill me, Harry?" Black whispered.
Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black's chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black's left eye and his nose was bleeding.
"You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand steady.
Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes. "I don't deny it, but if you knew the whole story..."
"The whole story?" Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."
"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't... You don't understand..."
I could tell he was telling the truth, but I wasn't ready to trust him.
"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum... trying to stop Voldemort killing me... and you did that... you did it..."
Before either of them could say another word, Crookshanks leapt onto Black's chest and settled himself there, right over Black's heart. Black blinked and looked down at the cat.
"Get off," he murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him. Who would've known the dog was a cat person?
Crookshanks sank his claws into Black's robes and wouldn't shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great yellow eyes. To his right, Hermione gave a dry sob.
Harry stared down at Black and Crookshanks, his grip tightening on the wand.
"Wait, Harry!" I exclaimed, rushing forward and grabbing his arm. "You can't kill him!"
Black and Harry looked at me in surprise.
"Ash, he killed my--"
"No, not Black, the cat!" I said. "You can't kill the cat! He may be a demon cat, but still--"
Black scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You put a cat's life over mine, and you call me a madman."
"It's in league with Black," Harry said. "If it wants to die trying to protect Black, that's none of my business."
"Harry! If that was Hedwig--"
"Why are you so invested in the cat?"
"Because if it was Jab, I would've wanted someone else to save him!"
I paused, half-expecting Jab to come scurrying in babbling about how great dogs were and how Black was the best dog or something. He didn't, and I felt relieved because I'd spent the past school year raising him to be a decent member of Jarvey society, and siding with serial killers was a complete one-eighty.
Harry raised the wand. The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent.
And then came a new sound. Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs.
"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!"
Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks; I instinctively jerked toward him, ready to defend Harry if it came to it. My keychain was within reach, all Black had to do was breathe the wrong way...
The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and I wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to me, standing ready to protect Harry, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and finally, to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.
"Expelliarmus!" Lupin shouted.
Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did mine and the two Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest. I gawked at him, too shocked for words.
Then Lupin spoke, in a very tense voice. "Where is he, Sirius?"
I was confused. I didn't understand what Lupin meant. Who was Lupin talking about?
Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. Mystified, I glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered.
"But then..." Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "... why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" — Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest of us could see, "— unless he was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?"
Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.
"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on —?"
But the question seemed to die in his throat. Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixed at Black. The Professor walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother.
And at that moment, I knew I had never felt more betrayed in my life.
And here we have a very quickly written chapter, barely edited. Enjoy and comment for more!
~~~~Alcyone~~~~