The Forbidden Forest
6:48 p.m.
Fenrir Greyback stood nude in a clearing with his clothes and wand nestled under a nearby tree. He looked up through the opening in the forest canopy. High above, he could see Dementors floating almost peacefully in a way that belied their horrific nature. And much higher, far above the Dementors, he could see the Moon. Silvery light bathed the werewolf as he waited for his transformation. He wondered if the Change would still be agonizingly painful while he was under the effects of the Wolfsbane Potion.
It was.
Abruptly, Greyback screamed in agony. In some ways, it was worse than normal. Usually, his awareness receded immediately into the deep recesses of his mind, leaving the Beast to suffer the physical effects of the Change, but the potion apparently made that impossible. It felt as though his skin was on fire from the sensation of rough course animal hair growing speedily out of every follicle. Every single bone in his body broke at once and was instantly mended into a new shape. His ears rang painfully as his hearing improved exponentially, instantly overwhelming him with new sensations.
He fell to the ground, still screaming, and rolled around for several minutes before finally coming to rest. Then, he lay there for a moment, gasping in pain until finally, he opened his eyes to see the Moon still overhead. Slowly, he rose from the ground and looked around in wonder. Carefully, so as not to claw himself, he ran his hands over his body. He'd known that he was powerful and fearsome, but only by reputation, by what others said about him in news reports and interviews with the few survivors he'd left behind.
But now, Greyback could feel the power of this form. The bulging muscles. The heightened senses. The lightning reflexes. He felt like a god. A stuttering growl emanated deep from his chest, growing louder until he realized that he was not growling at all. He was laughing. He threw his head back in delight and howled his delirious joy to the forest. When the laughter finally died away, he sniffed the air experimentally before looking around to get his bearings.
"Kill 'em," he growled deeply with a throat not made for human speech. "Kill 'em all. But leave d'head fer Peter! Heh-heh-heh!"
The werewolf dropped to all fours and bounded off into the night.
Meanwhile, in the Shrieking Shack...
His transformation nearly complete, the thing that had been Remus Lupin howled madly in rage and hunger. Nearby, James struggled desperately to free himself from his bonds, but they were too tight. And with anti-Animagus cuffs on, he didn't know if the transformed Remus would ignore him as a werewolf would a normal Animagus or if the beast would tear him apart ... or indeed, whether Pettigrew's control over his friend would overcome that protection regardless.
Beside him, Harry sprang into action the second Pettigrew Apparated out of the Shack. With a loud grunt, he rolled over onto his stomach and then wriggled his fingers. To James's amazement, Harry's wand flew like a rocket from the next room where Peter had hurled it and snapped into the boy's waiting hand.
"FINITE INCANTATEM!" he yelled, and with a flash, his bonds disappeared. Then, he rolled back over and pointed his wand toward Remus who was racing straight for him and was less than five feet away. Instantly, Harry dilated and tried to figure out what he could possibly do in the seconds before the werewolf ripped him apart.
Thump-thump.
The werewolf's movements slowed, but not nearly as much as Harry had hoped. He had at most two more heartbeats, maybe three, in which to think of a spell that might work to repel the beast. Or more accurately, another spell. Because he already knew one spell that would work because it had been designed for just this situation, but his mind recoiled from using it. He knew and liked this man. Remus Lupin was a victim, just as he and James were. And Harry desperately did not want to harm him, let alone ....
Thump-thump.
Despite the Slytherin's desperation, no other options presented themselves. If he did not act now, he would die. And then James would die. And then, the werewolf would join Pettigrew and Greyback in the Forbidden Forest and Merlin only knew how many more would die, though several of his closest friends would certainly be among the casualties.
Thump-thump.
Time was up. Remus's claws were less than a yard from his face, and the only options were to act or die. The boy released his dilation ... and hissed.
"SSSECTUMSSSEMPRA!"
Harry's wand vibrated in his hand from the force of the magic unleashed, as waves of magical force that cut like buzz saws slammed into the werewolf's body, picking it up and flinging it across the room ... and slicing it into several pieces in the process.
The physical remains of Remus Lupin slammed into the opposite wall and then dropped to the ground, leaving a bloody smear in their wake. The individual pieces twitched for a few seconds and then went still. The largest portion, consisting of his upper torso and head, was the last to do so, and the werewolf's head let out a shuddering death rattle as life fled from it.
Harry slowly lowered his wand and then closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he tried to center himself. Under the circumstances, he really did not have time to waste on vomiting, let alone having a stress-related breakdown. Next to him, a still-bound James Potter stared at the remains of his former friend in shock and horror.
"What did you do, Harry?" he whispered. "What did you do?"
"I saved both our lives," Harry answered dully as he climbed up from the floor. "The only way I could."
"You ... you killed him!"
"It was him or us. What else should I have done?"
The elder Potter's eyes blazed, and he looked at his son with a sudden contempt. "And you're a Parselmouth too! All this time! And you let me treat Jim ...!"
"How!" Harry spat angrily. "How did you treat Jim, the son you actually loved all these years, once you found out he was a Parselmouth?! And how would you have treated me if you'd known I was one too?! You accused me of being a dark wizard when I was eleven the day after my Sorting! Can you blame me for concealing it?"
"You are a dark wizard! A spell like that must be dark magic! You complain about how I treated you when you were eleven? You've murdered a man before reaching fourteen!"
"I very much doubt the Wizengamot would call it murder to kill someone in self-defense, even if it wasn't a transformed werewolf!"
"We'll see," James said coldly.
Harry shook his head in disgust. "I don't have time for this. STUPEFY!"
There was a flash of red light, and James Potter fell unconscious once more. Harry stared at the man for a moment and then turned away. On his way out, he paused and knelt by Marcus Flint's body. The boy's eyes were still open and staring up sightlessly. Gently, Harry reached down and closed them.
"I'm sorry, Marcus. I'm ... sorry."
Then, Harry rose and searched for the entrance to the tunnel that led to the Whomping Willow. The whole time, he focused on shoving his emotions down. He would grieve later. And perhaps rage later, if James Potter provoked him again. But now, he simply didn't have the time.
The Statue of Gregory the Smarmy
The First Floor Corridor
7:10 p.m.
When Harry arrived at the statue concealing the hidden tunnel, Theo and Neville were waiting for him, though they were standing a good ten feet apart, and Neville looked as though there was some foul stench in the air he was forced to tolerate. Without speaking to either boy, Harry activated the secret latch and entered the passage. Despite their animosity, Neville and Theo looked at one another in surprise before following. Once all three were inside, the door slid closed again.
"Aren't we waiting for Marcus and Professor Snape?" Neville asked.
"No," Harry said tersely before turning to Theo. "I need you to send a Patronus message to Scrimgeour. Tell him that Snape is locked in his private potions lab and is in danger. Be careful of poisonous fumes."
Theo's eyes widened, and then he pulled out his wand. Harry turned back to Neville.
"And I need you to send a Patronus to Regulus Black. Tell him ... tell him that Pettigrew knows they're coming and is waiting somewhere in the Forest ... along with Fenrir Greyback. And Greyback is in full control of his mind even while transformed into a werewolf."
"What?!" Neville exclaimed. "How?!" Beside him, Theo was equally horrified.
"JUST SEND THE DAMNED MESSAGES!" Harry yelled before adding in a softer voice. "Please."
His two friends stared at him for a few seconds. Neither could remember the last time they'd ever heard Harry Potter yell in anger. They both summoned Patronuses, and Harry took the opportunity to calm himself, and the feeling of serenity generated by the presence of the two ethereal creatures helped greatly. Then, the rabbit and the bear disappeared on their respective missions.
"So obviously Snape isn't joining us?" Theo said. "Where's Marcus?"
Harry looked at the floor. "He's dead, Theo. Peter Pettigrew murdered him in front of me."
The other two boys were shocked at the revelation. Neville gasped and put his hand over his mouth. Despite their different Houses, he'd become quite fond of the older Slytherin.
"Harry ..." Theo finally said softly. "We ... we can't do this alone. Pettigrew and Greyback? Along with all those Dementors? We need help!"
"Who, Theo?" Harry spat. "Snape is probably dead. Scrimgeour has a lame leg and can't cast a Patronus. Dumbledore is gone. No one else has any idea about what's going on, and by the time we could persuade someone, even if we could get someone to believe us, it would be too late!"
"Harry, calm down," Neville said cautiously.
"I don't have time to calm down! The only two living adults who've ever given a damn about me are both in danger and don't even know it! So, I'm going to save them. And if I get the chance, I'm going to put Peter Pettigrew in his grave while I do it! Now if you'd rather go get a professor instead, be my guest. Maybe my mist Patronus will be enough. But right now, I'm going!"
And with that, he turned and fled down the long tunnel that led to the Forbidden Forest. Theo followed instantly. Neville turned and looked longingly at the door leading back to the castle and safety before sighing loudly and running after the two Slytherins.
Meanwhile, at the northernmost edge of the Forbidden Forest...
Sirius and Regulus listened with horror to the report delivered by the glowing silver bear that spoke in the voice of Neville Longbottom before dissipating.
"Okay," Regulus said slowly. "The most dangerous werewolf in Europe, who has been tracking us for a full day across Britain, is now a hundred times more dangerous. And Peter Pettigrew, who has a magical map that can track you unerringly, is with him. Any more good news?"
"You left out the hundred Dementors floating overhead," Sirius added in a tired voice. Both men were utterly exhausted from having been on a constant run since the night before with no chance for rest, let alone sleep.
"Oh yes, of course! Can't forget the Dementors! By the way, how likely are they to be able to sense your presence?"
Sirius looked up. He could see the foul things distantly above through the canopy. "... not very, I hope. I don't know for sure. They can't see anything. They perceive through some sort of magical aura detection. And they can't detect me as Padfoot."
"No, but I'll wager Greyback can through your scent, and Pettigrew, of course, knows what you look like as a dog."
Sirius said nothing, but he grimaced at the mention of his former friend. Regulus took a deep breath and shook his head violently. There was a blurring of his features, but then, to Sirius's surprise, he was suddenly looking at his own twin.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"Trying to apply a little Slytherin cunning. You stay in dog-form, and I'll stay in your form. We stick together, but if Greyback shows up, you take off towards the secret passage as fast as you can, while I lead the werewolf away."
"Regulus ...!"
"No, Sirius, just think. If I look like you, they'll expect me to still be weak from Azkaban and underestimate me. Plus, I can Apparate away if need be. Now change forms so we can get on with it!"
Reluctantly, Sirius shifted to his dog-form while Regulus transfigured his own clothing to resemble what Sirius had been wearing. He also left the two borrowed brooms they'd been riding beside a tree as neither of the older model brooms could possibly have stood up to navigating through the darkened Forest. Then, the two brothers cautiously entered the woods.
After almost an hour of fighting off Acromantulas and other denizens of the Forest while trying to maintain stealth, they were drawing close to the hidden stump entrance. But then, Padfoot froze and began to growl softly but intently, his ears folding down against his skull. Regulus closed his eyes and listened ... before hurling himself to the ground just as a Killing Curse flew through the space where his head had been.
Simultaneously, there was a crash of foliage from the opposite side followed by Fenrir Greyback, in all his terrible lupine glory, exploding onto the scene. Reacting quickly, Regulus targeted the werewolf while it was in mid-leap.
"DEPULSO!"
There was a flash of light, and Greyback was hurled away, crashing through trees as he flew. To Regulus's amazement, the werewolf bellowed a loud expletive in a guttural inhuman voice, thus proving that he still had human intellect. The werewolf landed some fifty feet away, giving Reg time to move, and he scrambled to his feet and fired off a Killing Curse of his own that narrowly missed Greyback. The werewolf crouched and then leaped, not towards Regulus but off to the side into the forest where he disappeared completely. Reg cursed. As the former Auror had feared, a werewolf in control of its senses would be even more dangerous than normal, with human cunning added to the beast's other advantages. Regulus ran into the forest as well before Pettigrew could target him with another Killing Curse.
Meanwhile, in the nearby woods, Sirius carefully stalked his way towards his own prey. He'd found Peter in the woods by scent. Unsurprisingly, the rat-Animagus was hiding like a coward, waiting for another chance to snipe Regulus with a curse. Sirius was almost close enough to strike when he noticed that Peter had his wand in one hand and a parchment in the other. And he was smiling. Before Sirius could react, Peter whirled around and pointed the wand in his general direction.
"CONFRINGO!"
Sirius leaped away as best he could, but he was still caught in range of the Blasting Curse. The force of the explosion picked up the canine and slammed him against a nearby tree.
"Silly puppy!" Peter laughed. "You can't sneak up on me while I've got the Map, Sirius! No matter what tricks you and that brother of yours play!"
But just as Peter made that snide boast, the very Map in question jerked out of his hand and flew off into the woods ... where it was casually caught by Harry Potter with his offhand.
"I'll thank you to keep your grubby hands off my stuff, Wormtail!"
Pettigrew sneered. "You should have struck from behind while you had the chance, brat! LACERO!"
The Cutting Curse flew towards Harry only for him to casually bat it aside into a nearby tree.
"Unlike you, I don't need to strike my enemies from behind like a coward. STUPEFY!"
The surprised Peter narrowly dodged Harry's counterattack, which gave the boy time to move closer. To Peter's annoyance, he now could not simply blast the boy with a Blasting Curse or some other area of attack spell, and the boy was too nimble to hit otherwise. Worse, as Peter quickly realized, Harry was very good at dueling!
Nearby, Regulus (still wearing Sirius's face) cautiously made his way through the forest listening in vain for any sign of Greyback. Then, there was a rustling in some nearby brush, and in a flash, Regulus fired off an Expulso in that direction. There was a loud explosion, over which Regulus could hear a scream of pain. To his horror, it was not the voice of Fenrir Greyback but of someone much younger. Regulus ran forward and gasped at the sight of Neville Longbottom laying on the ground, unconscious or perhaps worse.
Then, it was Regulus's turn to scream as the werewolf he'd been pursuing dropped down behind him from out of a nearby tree and raked its claws down the wizard's back. Reg fell forward in agony, his wand slipping from his hand as he hit the ground.
"Gotcha, Black!" Fenrir said in a guttural inhuman rasp. "Time t' die!"
But before the werewolf could advance, he staggered back in shock and pain as something struck him in the face, singeing the fur on his muzzle. Greyback shook his head to clear it and then blinked stupidly in confusion. For before his eyes, there suddenly appeared a surprisingly fierce-looking silver rabbit floating in mid-air, one whose master had named it "Fiver." And for such a cute little animal, Fiver looked rather angry with him.
Before the werewolf could react, the rabbit Patronus shot forward and kicked him in the head again with its hindlegs. The werewolf staggered back again. And again. And again. Nearby, from out of the woods stepped Theo No-Name with his wand focused on his Patronus and his brow drenched in sweat from the force of his exertion. The young Slytherin had never tested how long he could maintain a Patronus, but he knew he was near his limit.
All told, Fiver got another three solid kicks on the werewolf before it finally dissipated as Theo dropped to his knees in exhaustion. Fenrir shook his head angrily and then focused his attention on the brat who'd dared to attack him with a prey animal, perhaps the worst insult that could be levied against a werewolf. Fenrir threw back his head and howled before running towards Theo. Luckily for the boy, though, his Patronus had lasted long enough.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
So intent was Fenrir on slaying the boy that he'd forgotten about Regulus completely, and while heavily wounded, the wizard was able to crawl to his wand and then target the werewolf. The green light hit Fenrir in the side, and he dropped to the ground stone dead.
Theo ran forward and knelt by Regulus's side, though as far as Theo knew, it was Sirius instead.
"Hello, you must be Sirius Black," Theo said shakily. "I'm Theo, Harry's friend."
"I know who you are, Theo," Regulus said weakly. "And I congratulate you on that magnificent Patronus. I wish now I'd put you on Team Protector with Harry. You were wasted in P.E."
Then, he coughed up blood.
Theo was confused by the man's words. "I ... I'm sorry. I don't understand."
"Never mind, Theo. Go help Harry. He'll explain. Quickly now."
"But you're hurt! I know some basic healing spells ...!"
"I'll be fine," the wizard said. "Harry needs you! Go!"
With a frown, Theo headed off into the woods in the direction from which he could still hear spellfire. Once he was gone, Regulus closed his eyes and carefully placed the tip of his wand over his heart. And then, he began to whisper an old family incantation.
Elsewhere, deeper in the Forest, Peter was reduced to defensive retreat against Harry Potter's fury. The few curses the Death Eater managed to fire were easily parried by Harry's Averto shield. Meanwhile, Peter himself was not a trained duelist and relied exclusively on a shaky Protego and frantic dodging to avoid Harry's increasingly dangerous curses. The outcome would not have been in doubt save for a stroke of ill fortune – as Harry was pressing his attack with a flurry of Burning and Cutting Curses, he failed to notice an Acromantula hiding in a nearby tree until it leaped down for an attack. The boy managed to dive out of the way while blasting the spider with an Incendio that caused it to chitter madly in the last seconds of its life, but it meant taking his attention off his opponent.
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
A blast of light hit the boy, and his wand went flying even as he fell backwards to the ground. Peter advanced while bearing a sick grin, though for once, he was not in the mood for gloating. He pointed his own wand at the boy from near point-blank range.
"AVADA KED-AAARRGH!"
Before he could complete the Killing Curse, Peter was interrupted by the pain of a massive black dog that leaped at him from the underbrush and bit down on his wand hand hard enough to crack bones. Instantly, Harry stretched out a hand to summon his own wand back.
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
This time, it was Pettigrew's wand that went flying ... as well as the man himself. In his anger and excitement, Harry had put perhaps a bit too much power into the Disarming Jinx. Peter flew back almost twenty feet, screaming in pain the whole way as his hand was violently (and bloodily) wrenched free from the dog's mighty jaws. The Grim snarled and spat out a single bloody finger before turning towards Pettigrew and preparing to pounce. With a yelp of terror, Pettigrew transformed into his rat form and scampered into a patch of thick spiny nettles before Sirius could run him down.
The dog turned back into a man who promptly incinerated the bush with a spell. But before he could pursue, he heard a voice calling out for him.
"Harry!" Theo yelled. "Come quick! Mr. Black is hurt!"
Sirius took one last look in the direction the rat had run before cursing loudly.
"It's okay, Sirius," Harry said while holding up the wand he'd claimed from the Death Eater. "He's wounded and disarmed. He can't cast spells or Apparate. We can chase him down after we see to Regulus."
Sirius nodded sullenly before heading towards Theo (who was suitably confused by the presence of a second Sirius Black). Harry paused to extinguish the burning shrubbery, as he had no wish to be caught in a Forbidden Forest that was on fire. Then, after a moment of consideration, he cast Serpensortia to summon four cobras that he sent in pursuit of Pettigrew.
Seconds later, Sirius, Harry, and Theo were back where Regulus lay, still in the form of his older brother. The still-warm body of Fenrir Greyback was nearby. Harry paused to look around.
"Where's Neville?" he asked urgently only to be answered by a groan from somewhere nearby.
"I'll find him," Theo said. "You should stay here with them."
Carefully, Sirius knelt by his brother who seemed to be resting peacefully. "Wake up, Regulus," he said gently. "We're not quite home yet."
Reg's eyes fluttered open. "Naturally," he drawled in a sleepy tone. "I finally get a few moments rest, and you have to come and interrupt it."
Sirius laughed. "Come on. Get up. I'll heal your wounds and then we'll get to safety."
"I don't think I'll be able to finish this journey with you, brother. I'm sorry."
"Nonsense! You're not dead yet, and you're no quitter."
Regulus chuckled. "I'm afraid you're wrong on both accounts. A few minutes ago, I cast the Euthanatos Curse on myself."
Sirius jerked back in shock. The Euthanatos Curse was from the Anathema Codex, but it was not truly an Anathema spell. Rather, it was a spell added to the Codex's marginalia by some ancient Lord of House Black. Also called the "Good Death" Curse, it ensured the death of the target within just a few minutes of casting but also that the death would be completely peaceful and pain-free. Perhaps the kindest Curse ever invented (and certainly to ever be invented by the notoriously cruel House Black), it was designed to ease the passage of those who were mortally wounded by dark magic and who would otherwise suffer a lingering and miserable demise.
"Why?!" Sirius shouted. "Why would you do that?!"
"Sirius, my back is broken, and by the claws of a werewolf which no magic can heal. I can't feel or move my legs. Assuming I live at all, the best-case scenario would be that I suffer in debilitating pain in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. The worst-case scenario would be that my injuries miraculously heal themselves ... which would mean that I have contracted lycanthropy. And I will die before I become like those things that murdered my family."
"Regulus," Sirius croaked out as tears poured down his cheeks.
"Sirius, it's okay. My wife and son are waiting for me. They always have been. Only now, I've atoned for my sins as best I can, and I've earned the right to see them again." He turned his head towards Harry.
"Does Pettigrew still have the Map?" he asked.
"No, I recovered it," the boy said, his voice breaking.
"Of course, you did, Harry. I'd have expected nothing less from my very best student. Sirius, when I die, my body should remain in this form. You can use it to let people think it was you who died. Then, lay low in the Chamber of Secrets until Rufus and the others are ready to prove your innocence."
"No," Sirius said flatly.
"Sirius...."
"I said no. I will not use your corpse for my own ends. You will die wearing your own face as befits a Son of House Black. Your Lord commands it."
Regulus gasped out a painful laugh. "As you insist, my Lord." He shook his head once more to resume his true visage. Then, he looked sadly from Sirius to Harry and back again.
"My little Leo would have turned ten this coming October. Did you know that, Sirius?" His brother shook his head silently. "In a few years, he'd have started to Hogwarts. I'd like to think he'd have been a Slytherin, but truth be told, he'd have likely had too much of his mother in him for that. So probably a Hufflepuff then. I could live with that."
He reached out to take Sirius's hand. "Promise me something, brother."
Sirius was openly weeping now. "Anything."
Regulus nodded towards Harry. "Be the father I never had the chance to be. The father your godson deserves."
"I will. I swear it."
The dying man closed his eyes. "Look after him, Harry. He'll need it. He's a ... Gryffindor... after ... all...."
And then Regulus Black breathed his last.
Instantly, Sirius broke down into wracking sobs and buried his head in his brother's chest. Harry wiped tears from his own eyes even as his Slytherin nature (and the voice of Alastor Moody) commanded him to remain vigilant. Softly and unobtrusively, he raised his wand and cast a Homenum Revelio that identified Theo and Neville as they stepped into the clearing but showed no other people (whether human or rat) within Harry's maximum range.
After a few minutes of silence, Sirius stood up.
"What now?" Neville asked. "Are ... are we just going to leave him here?"
"No," Sirius said simply as he raised his wand and pointed it towards the sky.
"I, Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, hereby testify before Magic itself. Be it known that Regulus Arcturus Black died a true Son of the House of Black. That he conducted himself to the last moment of his life with dignity and courage and with the highest values of wizardry. And that whatever his sins, his soul and heart were always pure. We Blacks are named for stars and planets and heavenly bodies because it is from star stuff that we are born. And it is to the stars that I commend Regulus Black: my kinsman, my brother, my blood."
As he spoke, Regulus's body began to sparkle and shine until, at the conclusion of Lord Black's words, his entire body broke down into a cloud of twinkling lights that looked like tiny stars, enough to fill a galaxy. The stars rose from the forest floor and then ascended higher and higher until they disappeared in a brilliant flash of light.
Just a thousand yards away near a small lake, Pettigrew stumbled out of the brush while clutching his emergency holdout wand in his still-bleeding hand. He was still fuming over how everything had gone so wrong at the moment of his ultimate triumph. Harry Potter lived. And so, he assumed, did James (although the fact that an angry stag hadn't come charging at him put that question to doubt). He wasn't sure about the status of Remus or Fenrir, but the suspicious absence of any werewolf howls was not a good sign, nor were those unusually persistent - and obviously non-indigenous! - snakes that he'd needed to fend off. And fucking Sirius bit off his god-damned finger!
Pausing to take stock, at least he still had the Wolfsbane Formula. If Fenrir was dead, it was a terrible blow, but Peter had other contacts in the European werewolf community. His greatest concern was James. If the Chief Auror still lived (or even if he was dead but Harry presented credible evidence to the authorities), Peter's life as an upstanding British wizard was over. And more importantly, his influence over Jim Potter was probably at an end. In the pale moonlight, he noticed another cobra slithering nearby, and he idly sliced it in two with a Lacero.
But then, he was distracted by a sudden flash of light originating in the forest behind him and shooting up into the sky. Whatever it was, it was probably bright enough to be seen from Hogwarts! Peter raised his spare wand. It was highly illegal and not a good match for him. (He wondered at times if the wand somehow held a grudge over how he'd murdered the prior owner to get it.) But it was good for Apparition and basic spells.
Like Sonorous.
"Right," said Sirius abruptly. "I'm off to kill Wormtail then."
Harry grabbed him by the arm. "Not unless I kill him first," the boy said coldly.
"Hey, hey!" Theo interrupted. "I thought the plan was to get Sirius to the Chamber of Secrets!"
"For once, I agree with him," Neville added, although it seemed to offend him to agree to anything Theo said.
"That plan is off the table," Harry said. "The Chamber's not safe. James knows that we were sending Sirius there, and Jim has the power to open it. Besides, I've got the Map back, so there's no way anyone can track Sirius with it. But we need to finish Peter Pettigrew off for good before he has a chance to bounce back and regroup!"
"Harry ...." Neville's intended lecture on Harry's sudden bloodthirstiness was cut short by the sound of a booming voice echoing through the forest. Pettigrew's booming voice, to be exact.
"HELLOOOO DEMENTORS! DID ANY OF YOU HAPPEN TO NOTICE THAT FLASH OF LIGHT THAT JUST SHOT BY! IF YOU GO TO WHERE IT ORIGINATED, YOU CAN FIND SIRIUS BLACK, THE ESCAPED PRISONER! FIND HIM AND KISS HIM!"
Harry and his companions looked up to the sky and saw to their dismay that the Dementors up above were indeed beginning to move towards them in response to Pettigrew's announcement.
"Yeah," Theo muttered. His breath was now visible in the sudden coldness that enveloped them. "I see what you meant about not giving him time to regroup!"
Meanwhile in the Astronomy Tower ...
After all these years, the Astronomy Tower was still Jim Potter's favorite place to sit and think when the life of the Boy-Who-Lived was getting to be a bit much ... like tonight. He'd heard nothing from his father or his Uncle Pete about this mysterious and incredibly vague plan to capture Sirius Black, but he noticed that Harry hadn't been at dinner, and that fact worried him.
Of course, everything about Harry worried him nowadays, but that was a consequence of the Imperius compulsion that someone had put on him. He'd written his father earlier in the week to see if there had been any more leads, but (as usual, lately) James had been evasive. Jim hated it when people kept secrets from him. Especially when it was secrets about him.
Suddenly, his attention was drawn towards the Forbidden Forest. It was some distance away from here, but he briefly noticed a strange light shoot up out of the woods and then disappear in a flash.
And then, to his amazement, he clearly heard his Uncle Pete's voice echo out of the woods. He couldn't make out everything, but he clearly heard "Dementors" and "Sirius Black." He jumped up and raced for the stairs. Whatever was going on, he was a Gryffindor and the Boy-Who-Lived. He couldn't just sit by and do nothing.
The Shrieking Shack
8:20 p.m.
It had taken James Potter an hour to awaken from his traitorous Heir's Stunner, and then another twenty minutes to crawl (while still bound) to where his wand had landed. He cast a Finite on his bonds and then summoned his own Patronus to send a message to the ranking Senior Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt. The message was as terse as it was shocking.
"Prepare a Form 20315/HAF – Hogwarts Authorization to Pursue Homicide Investigation. Then meet me at the front gates of Hogwarts asap. Two murders have been committed."
After sending the message, James took one last look around the crime scene. A boy cut down in his prime, one who James had come to respect despite his heritage and Slytherin nature. A friend he'd thought he'd lost forever but with whom he'd been reunited for mere moments before he was brutally cut down. Two victims of dark magic. Two dark wizards. One his closest friend, the other his Heir. James's heart ached at the thought of what he'd witnessed and what he would have to do next. But the words of the Prophecy could not be denied.
For the sake of the world, he had to act.
Back in the Forest ...
"No, no, no, no," Sirius muttered with increasing hysteria as he looked up wildly. But then, he gave a yelp of surprise as a blast of silvery mist from Harry's wand enveloped him with feelings of happiness and hope.
"Thanks," he said sheepishly.
"Switch to Padfoot," Harry said. "Then lead us out of the Forest as fast as you can."
Sirius nodded and transformed before taking off into the woods. The three boys followed and were soon joined by a silvery bear and rabbit. But the Patronus Charm was difficult, and neither Theo nor Neville could maintain it for long. After several minutes of running through the thick brush, Neville tripped and fell hard on his face. Theo turned back to help him but stopped at the sight of his angry expression.
"Go on!" the Gryffindor snarled. "I don't need help from you!"
Theo shook his head and ran off in pursuit of Harry and Padfoot while Neville hauled himself up and followed behind with a slight limp.
Moments later, Harry burst through thick foliage but then skidded to a stop. Padfoot was just a few feet ahead of him, frozen and whimpering in fear. They'd emerged on the shore of a small lake, and Harry knew if they could skirt around to the other side, they would be less than 300 yards from the edge of the Forest.
Floating above the lake were scores of Dementors.
Harry raised his wand shakily and summoned his mist Patronus, even as he struggled to ignore the biting cold and the onslaught of unhappy memories (and the sudden sense-memory of doxies crawling up his back). Seconds later, Theo emerged from the woods and summoned Fiver once more.
"Come on, Padfoot!" Harry urged. "We need another wand here!"
Sirius resumed his human form and pointed his wand up. "EX—EXPECTO P-PATRONUM!" The results were unimpressive, a soft glow from the tip of Sirius's wand. Unfortunately, his years in Azkaban had robbed the former Auror of the memories needed to summon a true Patronus. Still, the weak Patronuses of Sirius and Harry combined with Fiver were enough to ward off the nearest Dementors.
But then, Harry gasped in fear. While most of the Dementors were flying around in a seemingly random pattern, one Dementor remained perfectly stationary over the lake. And while its face was not visible beneath its ragged hood, Harry knew that it was staring at him. Somehow, Harry could tell that it was the same Dementor that had attacked him on the train the previous September. The same one that marshaled the other Dementors against him when he was fleeing Fenrir Greyback on Halloween. The same one that tried to attack his brother at the November Quidditch match.
[I/We] kNoooW [your] FaAaAaAaCE [DIE! DIE! DIE!]
The words – no, not words, primal concepts – somehow burned their way into his mind despite his Occlumency. Perhaps it was because his own Legilimency skills had grown so much since he'd the last time he'd been this close to the rogue Dementor. But for whatever reason, the boy realized that this Dementor seemed to know him in a specific and personal way. It knew him and it hated him. But also, perhaps, feared him?
As if the Dementor somehow realized what Harry had intuited and took umbrage from it, the foul creature raised its arms and let out a deafening SCREEEECHH! In response to the rogue Dementor's command, dozens of its fellows swarmed towards Harry. At the last second, Theo positioned Fiver in front of his friend, and the Dementors diverted away. Then, instead of directly charging, the creatures began flying around the three wizards in a circle, constantly seeking an opening and preventing Theo from using Fiver to attack.
Harry's own vision was starting to blur by this point from his Patronus exertions, and then, he was almost knocked over when Sirius fell against him before dropping to the ground semi-conscious. To his left, Harry saw Theo physically shaking as he struggled to maintain Fiver's corporeality. And the whole time, one thought burned through his mind.
"Where the hell is Neville?!"
Unbeknownst to Harry, Neville Longbottom was very near. In fact, he was less than twenty feet away hidden among the dark foliage. With his right hand, he gripped his wand so tightly that his knuckles were bone white against the gold of the Longbottom Heir's ring. With his left hand, he absentmindedly rubbed his fingers over the ring as if to seek reassurance from it that he was doing the right thing. In the shadows of the forest, his eyes blazed with the intensity of the emotions he felt – emotions borne of the Ultimate Sanction that now bordered on madness.
He'd almost rushed into the clearing to join the others and add Elby to the fray, but a sudden and terrible inspiration stopped him. For hours, he'd been forced to travel alongside the Outcast, waiting for the betrayal that never came. It had been nerve-wracking. More than that, it had been exasperating that Harry Potter, who was so much cleverer than him, could not see what was obvious to Neville: that Theo No-Name was evil.
Sure, the Outcast had acted loyal and brave. Even now, he gave every appearance of protecting Harry and Sirius even at the risk of his own life. But Neville wasn't fooled. It was all part of the Outcast's plot to ... do something. But Neville had a plan of his own. Ironically, it was a plan to do ... nothing.
If he stayed here, hidden, and timed it just right, he could wait until Theo's Patronus failed, at which point the Dementors would swarm him. Then, Neville could summon his own Patronus and position Elby to protect Harry and Sirius but not the Outcast, leaving the cursed boy to be Kissed as he deserved. Harry would probably hate him forever for it, but they would all be safe from the Outcast's evil.
It would be easy.
The Heir's ring seemed to grow warm against Neville's fingers as he contemplated what he was about to do. He hoped his father would approve. No, he knew his father would approve. This was his duty, after all. To the Wizengamot. To his family's honor. To the whole wizarding world. He was Longbottom of Longbottom, and today he would act as a Longbottom should.
"You've always told me I'm expected to live up to my father's standards."
Ahead of him, Harry finally collapsed on top of Sirius as if to shield him with his own body. Theo dropped to one knee but still maintained his Patronus which he redirected to cover Harry and Sirius at the cost of his own defense. A Dementor came in low from Theo's blindside and got close enough to grab the boy's arm. He screamed and dropped his wand, and Fiver disappeared instantly. The Dementor pulled the boy in close and began to raise its hood.
Neville's ring burned against his skin.
"What would your father say to you if he were here now?"
The Dementor leaned in slowly. Theo screamed.
"Well, I would hope that he would say that he didn't want his Mum to become a murderess!"
Neville hissed in pain as the ring drew blood. This was easy.
But it wasn't right!
Theo was rigid with terror as the Dementor leaned in to Kiss him. He could see under its hood now. It was faceless and repulsive, a putrid scab of grey mottled skin stretched over eye and nose sockets. The only recognizable feature was its mouth, a gaping hole that stretched wider as it moved towards Theo's face for the Kiss. The boy could hear the sound of a gasping death rattle as the air around them was sucked into that hideous maw. Then, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he could feel something deep inside him, something vital, coalesce in his mouth and then slide out towards the Dementor.
"So this is what losing your soul feels like," Theo thought deliriously. "Doesn't hurt as much as I'd thought."
That morbid thought was interrupted by a blinding white light that somehow filled the boy with renewed hope even as it drove the Dementor backwards with a furious screech and yanked Theo's semi-detached soul back into his body. The boy shook his head and then looked up to see Elby, somehow bigger and brighter than ever before, standing on its hind legs between him and the Dementor. The huge bear gave a deafening roar before slashing at the Dementor with a mighty claw. The foul creature squealed again and retreated.
Still on the ground, Theo felt around for his wand when he heard a voice behind him.
"Looking for this?"
It was Neville holding out Theo's wand and smiling at him for the first time since the Sanction began. He tossed Theo his wand and then held out a hand to help him up, one that Theo gratefully accepted. And once Theo was standing, Neville swept him up in a bear hug.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for how awful I've been these months!"
"Don't worry about it!" Theo exclaimed. "But how did you break free from the Sanction? You must have ...."
But then, Theo was distracted by the sensation of something wet and sticky on his hand, the one Neville had grabbed to pull him up. It was blood. He looked over to Neville's right hand and saw that one of his fingers was bloody ... from where a ring had been violently ripped off hard enough to scrape the skin.
"Your Heir's ring! Oh, Neville ... no!"
"Save it for later, Theo. We're not out of the woods yet." Neville paused to glance around the Forest. "No pun intended."
With that, Neville recast his Patronus and Theo matched him, with Elby and Fiver taking up positions on either side Harry and Sirius. Above them, floating over the lake, the rogue Dementor registered its anger with a terrible wail that sounded like metal spikes dragged across a blackboard. The feelings of hope engendered by the Patronuses roused Harry from his brief stupor, and he looked up defiantly at the foul demon. In response, the Dementor waved its arms again, and even more of its fellows joined the attack on their position, swirly madly around the two Patronuses but just out of reach. It was clear that they were just waiting for Neville and Theo's concentration to lapse before attacking.
"No! No, you bastard!" Harry thought angrily. "I may not have been able to save Remus or Marcus or Reg, but I will not lose anyone else tonight!"
As that thought energized the boy, he rose shakily to his feet. Then, he closed his eyes in concentration as he pulled forth every memory he had of his friends and especially Theo and Neville, who were reunited at last.
"I'm not used to all this ... kindness stuff. I wasn't raised for it."
"I don't know, Theo. I think you might just have a knack for it."
"And if I ever start to fall into real darkness...."
"You'll have me there to catch you and pull you back."
"Neville and Hermione are my friends, and they're in trouble. So I'm there for them. Just like I'm there for you."
"You're better than you think you are, Harry. Don't ever believe otherwise."
Harry opened his eyes and stared defiantly at the rogue Dementor with eyes that blazed the color of the Killing Curse. The rawest emotions surged through him despite his Occlumency because they were simply not the sort of emotions Occlumency was ever meant to contain – hope, friendship, loyalty, and above all, a righteous indignation at the thought of someone daring to threaten the people he loved.
Harry raised his wand.
"I may never have had a father worth a damn!" he shouted at the rogue Dementor. "But I have brothers! AND I WILL NEVER LET YOU TOUCH THEM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Magic blasted forth from Harry's wand, enveloping the Dementor in a silver miasma and causing it to howl in fury. The boy didn't let up though, pouring more and more of himself and his affection for Theo and Neville (and for Hermione and Blaise and Ginny and Luna and even Jim and Ron and everyone he'd come to consider a friend at Hogwarts) into the spell. The silver mist grew brighter and thicker until, in a flash, it collapsed into a solid form.
And to its surprise and dismay, the rogue Dementor suddenly found itself wrapped up in the coils of a twelve-foot-long silver boa constrictor!
But to Harry's delight, it wasn't just any snake he'd summoned into existence – it was that snake. The boa constrictor he'd met at the London Zoo in the summer of 1991. The first snake to whom he'd ever spoken. The first living creature that had ever called Harry "friend."
Harry laughed ... and then hissed. "Nice to sssee you again, Amigo. Would you pleassse do me a favor and sssqueeze that ugly bastard until it ssscreams?"
"Ki-ki-ki!" the Patronus laughed back before tightening its coils.
In response, the horrible sounds of the rogue Dementor grew even louder, while the other Dementors broke their formation and drew back in confusion. Instantly, Theo and Neville renewed their own Patronuses, and a few seconds later, the rogue Dementor's troubles worsened as Elby dug into its body with silver teeth and claws while Fiver proceeded to kick it in the head repeatedly, with each kick triggering a flash of light like an electrical discharge.
Theo and Neville moved next to Harry, and all three were pointing their wands in unison. Three wizards, three friends, three brothers, bound together by fate and circumstance with unbreakable bonds. Above them, Amigo, Elby, and Fiver continued their assault on the Dementor whose screams now sounded less like anger and more like fear.
As the boys continued their joint attack, they noticed something unusual: All three of their Patronuses began to glow brighter and brighter even as the Dementor struggled more and more until, unexpectedly, all four of them were engulfed in a bonfire of silver flames that grew so bright that it was hard to watch. The brightness grew and grew until it finally exploded in a shock wave of force that knocked Harry, Neville and Theo onto their backs. The three boys scrambled to their feet instantly and prepared to recast their Patronuses.
But it wasn't necessary – the snake, the bear, and the rabbit were all still there, floating a few feet above the lake. Neville, who'd had the most experience with a corporeal Patronus, was surprised to realize that he felt very little of the physical or mental strain that he'd come to expect from summoning Elby, and he knew somehow that Harry and Theo felt the same. For them, the Patronus Charm was now ... easy.
And in the space where the rogue Dementor had been, there was nothing left but a few scraps of smoking rags that slowly floated down to the surface of the lake where they sizzled for a few seconds before sinking beneath the dark waters.
It was all that remained of a creature that, until that moment, was believed impervious to death!
Neville, ever the Gryffindor, took two steps forward and yelled up at the ninety-nine remaining Dementors who floated above them while observing the scene.
"Right, you lot! Who's next?!"
The Dementors slowly floated back up into the sky.