Delilah's mind went blank with shock. She stood transfixed with horror. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. Then, behind them, they heard a wild howling.
"Hagrid," Harry muttered.
"We can't," said Ron. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him...."
Harry, or Hermione, must have tried to turn back.
"How — could — they?" Hermione choked. "How could they?"
"Come on," said Ron through chattering teeth.
They set off back toward the castle, walking slowly so that the Cloak stayed on them. The light was fading fast now. By the time they reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them.
"Scabbers, keep still," Ron hissed. "What's the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!"
"Ron, shut up!" Delilah whispered urgently. "They'll be out here in a minute and hear us!"
"He won't — stay — put —"
Scabbers must have been terrified. Otherwise he wouldn't be fighting Ron so forcibly.
"What's the matter with him?"
But Delilah had just seen — slinking toward them, 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's squeaks, Delilah didn't know.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"
But the cat was getting nearer —
"Scabbers — NO!"
Too late — the rat must have slipped out of his grip because he appeared from under the Cloak and started scampering away. Ron appeared a moment later and pelted away into the darkness.
"Ron!" Hermione moaned.
Harry and Hermione appeared a few meters ahead and Delilah cursed under her breath, undid her charm, and hurried after them. She chased after Ron.
"Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —"
There was a loud thud.
"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"
Delilah almost ran into Harry and Hermione; she skidded to a stop right in front of them. Ron was a bit behind them, 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 they could leave, before they could even catch their breath, they heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws.... Something was bounding toward them out of the dark — an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black, oddly familiar dog.
Delilah reached for her wand, but too late — the dog had made an enormous leap over them.
Ron was on his feet. As the dog sprang back toward them he pushed Harry aside; the dog's jaws fastened instead around Ron's outstretched arm. Delilah raised her wand, but they were all moving too fast for her to hit accurately. Cursing, she put it away. Then, Harry lunged forward, he seized a handful of the dog's hair, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as though he were a rag doll, he did, afterall, have the brains of one.
Then, out of nowhere, something hit Delilah so hard across her face she was knocked off her feet. She heard Harry and Hermione shriek with pain and fall too.
Delilah rose her wand again, blinking blood out of her eyes —
"Lumos!" she whispered.
The wandlight showed the trunk of a thick tree; they 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 them going nearer.
And there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, dragging the rag doll — sorry, 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 branch whipped lethally through the air and he was forced backward again.
All they 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.
"Harry — we've got to go for help —" Hermione gasped; she was bleeding too; the Willow had cut her across the shoulder.
"No, there isn't enough time. That thing is big enough to eat him. Of course that would get rid of one problem but-"
"No! Delilah, we are going after him!" Harry snapped.
Delilah rolled her eyes. If he had only let her finish she was going to say that they should still go after him, but he never fully listened to her, not anymore at least.
"We're never going to get through without help —" Hermione said, but another branch whipped down at them, cutting her off.
"If that dog can get in, we can," Harry said determidly, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches.
Delilah tried to follow his lead, but none of them could get an inch nearer.
"Oh, help, help," Hermione whispered frantically, dancing uncertainly on the spot, "please..."
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 whispered uncertainly. She now grasped Delilah's arm. "How did he know —?"
"He's friends with that dog," said Harry grimly. "I've seen them together. Come on — and keep your wands out —"
They covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before they had reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick of his bottlebrush tail. Harry went next, then Hermione slithered down. Delilah followed and seconds later slipped down beside them.
"Where's Ron?" Hermione whispered, sounding terrified.
"This way," said Harry, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks.
"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asked breathlessly from behind him.
"I don't know.... It's marked on the Marauders 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 ends up in Hogsmeade...."
They moved as fast as they could, bent almost double; ahead of them, Crookshank's tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage; it felt like they had been walking for at least half an hour.
And then the tunnel finally began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Instead, Delilah saw a patch of dim light through a small opening.
They paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. They raised their 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. Plus with the boarded up windows, it looked almost exactly like a haunted house.
Delilah glanced at Hermione, who looked very frightened, but nodded.
Harry pulled himself out of the hole. Hermione followed, and then Delilah. The room was deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm again. Her wide eyes were traveling around the boarded windows.
"Harry, Delilah" she whispered, "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack."
Delilah looked around. It made sense. There was 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," she stated.
At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. Both of them looked up at the ceiling. Neither Harry nor Hermione moved towards the stairs. Delilah rolled her eyes and walked over to the stairs.
She moved as quietly as possible, and 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.
They reached the dark landing.
"Nox," they whispered in unison, and the lights at the end of their wands went out. Only one door was open. As they crept toward it, they heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. They exchanged a last look, a last nod.
Wand held tightly before her, Delilah kicked the door wide open.
On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of them. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron.
Harry and Hermione dashed over to him. Delilah stayed by the door, eyes scanning the room. Her eyes widened when she saw Sirius Black of all people, standing in the shadows. She made eye contact. His eyes were mad, but not insane. It was an odd combo.
"Ron — are you okay?" Hermione asked as Delilah raised her eyebrow at him.
"Where's the dog?" Harry interrupted.
"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth gritted. "Harry, it's a trap —"
"What —"
Delilah understood though, Sirius Black must have been an Animagus, but that didn't make sense. The dog wasn't new, it had been familiar, but where had she seen it....
"He's the dog... he's an Animagus...," Ron confirmed a moment later.
Black closed the door and Delilah could see him clearer. He had a mass of filthy, matted hair that hung all the way 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.
"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at them.
All of their wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes flickered to Delilah before focusing on Harry.
"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "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...."
Harry started forward, glaring at Black, but Delilah and Hermione held him back; 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.
"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."
"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"
"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened.
"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Delilah 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 their restraint and lunged forward —
Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so idiotically 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; Delilah stood in a daze; 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's other hand punched 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 —"
Harry choked, his glasses askew.
But then Hermione kicked Black and Delilah snapped out of her daze. She hurried over and grabbed the wands from Black's hand and gave Ron and Hermione theirs while she put hers in her pocket.
Harry drew away from Black and reached toward Delilah who tried to hand him his wand but-
"Argh!"
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!" roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned —
"Get out of the way!" he shouted at Ron, Delilah, and Hermione.
They 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.
Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walk slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at Black's heart.
"Going to kill me, Harry?" he 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 quite steady.
"I don't deny it," he said very quietly. "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 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, something ginger streaked past Harry; 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.
But Crookshanks furled down tighter.
Delilah quickly turned to Ron.
"I can't mend your leg, but I can wrap it."
He quickly nodded.
Delilah quickly murmured, "Ferula!"
Ron showed his thanks by giving her a weak smile, but it faded as he turned to Harry.
Hermione was now quietly sobbing. Harry just stood there, his wand poised over Black. But he didn't say the curse. Delilah knew he wouldn't. He was too noble for that, no matter what he said.
But then there was a new sound. There were muffled footsteps from downstairs.
"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!"
Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks, but not quite.
The footsteps were thundering up the stairs and Harry still hadn't done it. He wouldn't.
The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Delilah turned toward the door as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, sitting on the bed with his bandaged leg, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Delilah, standing behind Harry, Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then 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 the two Hermione was holding and Delilah's. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.
Then Lupin spoke, in a very tense voice.
"Where is he, Sirius?"
Delilah narrowed her eyes at Lupin. What was he talking about? She turned back to Black.
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, Harry 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 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 he never finished the question, and Delilah knew why. Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixed at Black. He 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.
Delilah glared at him.
"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.
Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at
Lupin, wild-eyed. "You — you —"
"Hermione —"
"– you and him!"
"Hermione, calm down —"
"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you —"
"Hermione, listen to me, please" Lupin shouted. "I can explain —"
"Then start," Delilah snapped.
"I trusted you," Harry shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering, ignoring Delilah's comment, "and all the time you've been his friend!"
"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now — Let me explain..."
"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he's a werewolf!"
There was a ringing silence. Delilah wondered why that last fact mattered, she had known it for a while now, and it wasn't like it was his fault.
"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead." An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."
Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain despite the bandage. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"
Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"
"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."
"He'll be delighted," said Lupin coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant... Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"
"Both," Hermione said quietly.
Delilah stifled a small smile. She assumed Hermione would find out, but hadn't realized that she had already known.
Lupin forced a laugh.
"You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."
"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"
"But they already know," said Lupin. "At least, the staff do."
"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf," Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"
"Some of the staff thought so," said Lupin. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy —"
"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"
He was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring.
Ron edged away from both of them, dragging his leg.
"I have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"
He separated Harry's, Ron's, Hermione's, and Delilah's wands and threw each back to its owner; Delilah caught hers, surprised.
"There," said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"
Delilah had already been curious about Sirius's so-called "explanation" and nodded.
"If you haven't been helping him," Harry said, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"
"The map," said Lupin. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it —"
"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.
What map were they even talking about?
"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony — that was my friends' nickname for me at school."
"You wrote —?"
"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, Hermione, and maybe even you Delilah, might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his Hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?"
He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.
"You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry—"
"How d'you know about the cloak?"
Cloak? Their Dad's cloak? Delilah had never known their Dad owned an invisibility cloak, much less that Harry had it.
"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it..." said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."
"What?" said Harry. "No, we weren't!"
Someone could have been under an invisibility spell, like Delilah was, but that wasn't likely. They wouldn't have come out of Hagrid's hut with them.
"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"
"No one was with us!" protested Harry.
"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black... I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"
"One of us!" Ron said angrily.
"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you."
He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.
An invisibility spell also wouldn't be able to see and follow them, so they would have to be with them. And the only difference was—
"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" Lupin said evenly.
"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"
"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"
Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's leg and made a soft hissing noise.
Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.
"What?" Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"
"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.
"What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"
"No, he's not," said Lupin quietly. "He's a wizard."
"An Animagus," said Black, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."