"Ariadne," her father croaked, stepping forward with a spindly hand stretched before him. Ariadne scrambled backwards as best as she could, one arm cradled to her chest as she used her legs to propel her away.
Thirteen years she had heard of her father, and two years with the true knowledge of what he had done, but none of it could compare to the real thing before her. He was a person, she realized. A real, honest-to-Merlin person who had taken lives, twelve lives, maybe more. Had as good as cast the Killing Curse on his best friends. Had whispered into Voldemort's ears himself where to find them.
Ariadne shook with fear. "Please," she whispered, but what she was asking for she did not know. It didn't matter, anyway, for her father was undeterred. Eyes wild and unfocused, he continued moving towards her step by step. Ariadne backed away with each movement, until finally she hit the frame of the bed and could get further no more. He reached for her, then, dirty fingernails bypassing her neck to grip at her shoulders. She held her breath, but her ears picked up what her father's did not.
"Don't!" she yelled desperately. "It's a trap, Harry. Run!"
Sirius stopped her a moment too late, for by the time he moved his filthy hand from her shoulder to press against her mouth, Harry had already come running through the door, Ron and Hermione following closely behind.
The three paused, breathing heavily as Ariadne squirmed in her father's grasp. Even weakened by Azkaban, Ariadne was no match.
"Let her go!" yelled Harry, wand clenched in front of him. Sirius smiled widely in return, mirth revealing sharp canines.
"I had no doubt you'd come for her, Harry," he said, eyes transfixed on the green-eyed mirror of his former friend. "I was certain of it. Your father–" Black choked, his words nearly reverential. "He would have done the same for me." He moved in towards Harry, releasing Ariadne and stepping forward before stopping himself with an involuntary jerk. He turned back slowly, as if suddenly remembering his injured daughter, and ultimately kept his kept his feet firmly planted. Reaching out with his bony fingertips, her father grazed her wounded arm lightly.
Ariadne shuddered away instinctively, holding her breath as she scooted herself towards the right of the bed with her one good arm. Hurt flitted across his waxy features before he removed his hand, though he did not look away.
"Don't touch her!" Harry yelled. His wand was out in front of him and his green eyes flashed dangerously. Ariadne remembered suddenly the sound of Harry's voice that night in his room. He'd said he wanted to kill her father, then. He'd meant it.
Ron, leg broken just above the knee, limped out and placed his body between Black and Harry. "If you want to kill Harry," he said fiercely, "you'll have to kill us too."
"If you kill Harry," Ariadne amended lowly, pushing herself upright with great effort. Scabbers scurried further and further under her cloak as she moved. Her voice wavered only slightly. "I'll kill you myself."
"I'd expect nothing less," Black admired, splitting his cracked lips into a mad grin once more. He eyed her with something like fondness before returning to Harry. "But there will be only one murder here tonight."
"Nice of you to hold yourself back!" shouted Harry, unable even now to keep the sarcasm at bay. He struggled furiously against Ron and Hermione, whose grip on him appeared to be growing tenuous. "Not like last time though, is it? You didn't care for numbers with Pettigrew or those muggles. Or my MUM AND DAD."
With a roar, Harry broke free of Ron and Hermione's restraints and lunged forward with his wand hanging uselessly by his side. They too collapsed on the bed now, Harry clawing and punching and punching madly. Black reached thin arm out and grabbed for Harry's throat, second hand joining now and Ariadne watched has he pressed, fingers tightening. Harry choked, glasses askew.
She threw herself forward at once, launching her good elbow onto Black's ribcage. He heaved a deep breath, gasping for air, and released his fingers involuntarily. Harry took the opportunity to grab onto his wand and, standing in front of her now, pushed Black off of the bed and onto the floor beneath them.
Harry stayed in front of her, blocking her vision, but Ariadne could see at least that Harry's wand was raised, pointed at her father's throat.
"Going to kill me Harry?" she heard him whisper. Harry did not respond. Ariadne flinched as the grasp on his wand tightened.
And as she watched Harry stand with his wand raised in front of Sirius Black's prone, pathetic body, Ariadne realized with a dawning horror that in spite of all that he had done, in spite of all that he had done to Harry, only now was she able to admit to herself that she did not want her father to die.
Yet as the seconds passed with agonizing deliberation, Harry's arm remaining steadily pointed, Ariadne continued to merely watch, tears pricking behind her eyes and words lodged in her throat where Hermione was open with her sobs, where Ron was vocal with his yells. And Ariadne was even sicker with herself when she realized what was worse: she did not want her father to die, but she would do nothing to stop it.
The tell-tale thump of footsteps approaching once more was the only warning that Ariadne had of Professor Lupin's approach before he shoved the door open and Disarmed Harry in one fell swoop.
A sigh of relief escaped Ariadne, and she cursed herself at the instinct. Sirius Black deserved to die. He was a murderer, a monster. And you're a coward.
"Professor Lupin," pleaded Hermione with a broken sob. "You've got to – he'll kill us."
Ariadne's relief did not last long, and she watched with narrow eyes as Professor Lupin ignored Hermione and moved straight towards her father. She did not trust Professor Lupin before, and she would not begin to trust him now. She did not drop her wand, as Hermione and Ron had, but lowered it to a discreet position by her thigh.
"Where is he, Sirius?" he asked through clenched teeth. Her father stared up at Professor Lupin from his position on the ground for a long moment, drinking in the sight of his old friend, before gesturing towards Ariadne. He?
Professor Lupin evidently did not share the same confusion as she did, for he nodded once tersely, maintaining careful contact with her father. His eyes widened as he looked, hurt pouring from every feature.
"Why did he not– did you switch? Without telling me?"
Sirius nodded once, and Professor Lupin crumbled. He was a man no longer, transformed into a boy by the wound of betrayal, and he fell to his knees in front of her father.
"Forgive me, Sirius," he whispered, reaching for her father. Her father returned the embrace, pressing his face into Lupin's worn collar.
"Remus, my old friend. There's nothing to forgive."
Ariadne watched the emotions flit across Harry's face. Disappointment, sure, and hurt as well, but he was not surprised either. They had been Marauders together, after all.
Ariadne had known, known, that something had been off with Professor Lupin. Something other than his being a werewolf, something that kept her at arm's length while pretending to hold her close. And here it was.
Lupin broke from her father's embrace first, teary brown eyes meeting her own. He studiously ignored her recoil.
"May we have him, please, Ariadne?"
"You're mad," breathed Ariadne, eyes flitting between the two men as they watched her expectantly from the centre of the room. Absolutely barmy. She narrowed her eyes and raised her voice as she continued. "We'll die before you can have Harry."
"What?" said Professor Lupin, confused now. He turned back to her father. "You haven't told them yet?"
"You were always the talker, Remus," her father replied, voice lowering into a growl. "I was just going to kill him."
"You won't kill Harry!" shrieked Hermione, recovering only now from Lupin's betrayal. "I trusted you! I protected you! I–"
"We will not kill Harry." Lupin cut her off with a sigh. He got up from the floor with a groan, flexing his tired muscles. He looked terrible, more so than usual, the bags under his eyes so dark he looked beaten. "Peter Pettigrew is alive. He's the rat in your robe, Ariadne."
It was Ariadne's turn to be confused. She'd forgotten entirely that Scabbers was even there, the entire reason that she was in the bloody Shrieking Shack to begin with. He hadn't moved once the entire time, not since he'd burrowed himself into her robe once she was on the bed. But he was scrambling now, clawing and clambering to get out of her closed pocket, almost as if he knew he was being discussed.
"You're both mental," said Ron, echoing Ariadne's thoughts. He shook his head slowly, eyes wide. "Peter Pettigrew is dead. That rat is my pet, Scabbers."
"That rat is Peter Pettigrew," Lupin repeated slowly. "The rat is an Animagus, better put. By the name of Peter Pettigrew."
"But Professor," interjected Hermione, voice high and shaky. She kept her eyes on Professor Lupin's face, willing him to sanity. "Pettigrew can't be Scabbers. Only seven animagi have been registered this century, and none of them are in this room."
Hermione'd say that, wouldn't she, not having seen a dog's bones melt into the skin of a man about twenty minutes prior.
Padfoot, then.
Ariadne cursed at once, drawing the attention of all in the room. She focused on one. "Harry," she said uncertainly. "Wormtail."
She only whispered the word, but Harry recoiled as though struck. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Professor Lupin smiled widely. "Clever girls," he praised. "That's right." He launched into a monologue about his school days, regaling them with a fantastic sort of tale about boyhood friendship and unregistered animagi. But Ariadne did not hear it, not really, for the story of the Marauders was no great mystery. She focused her attention on the door to the Shack instead, which had creaked open around the time that Professor Lupin began. Odd, for a windless night in June.
"So that's why he doesn't like you? Because he thought you were in on the joke?"
Ariadne saw the shimmer before anything else, and suddenly Professor Snape appeared, stood by the still-ajar door and pulling off the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it to the ground. In his remaining hand was a beaker, hazy blue smoke wafting from the narrow top. Wolfsbane, according to Hermione.
Ariadne had been so caught up in the presence of her father that she had forgotten she was stuck in the Shrieking Shack with a werewolf on the full moon. She'd even noticed it earlier in the night, had thought of Professor Lupin then. How bloody stupid could she be?
The potion jostled in Snape's hand as he vibrated with rage, distracted now as he taunted both Lupin and her father with promises of death.
"Two more for Azkaban tonight." Snape's wormy lips thinned into a grin. "How fitting, Lupin, that you selected this old place to be your hideout once more. I suppose this is where you commit all your murders, hm? You really can't teach an old dog new tricks."
"Snape," she called, but Snape did not hear over the sound of her father's rebuke. Snape whipped his hand into his robe and pulled out his wand, restraining Lupin with thin cords before holding it to her father's neck. The hand with the potion fell to his side. He was careless in his fevered hate. "Professor Snape," she tried again. "Please – the potion. It's a full moon tonight."
Snape hissed as he tore his hateful eyes away from her father and placed them onto her, but he allowed logic to temper rage as he shook the potion lightly and nodded once. Snape stepped forward to shove the bottle into Lupin's restrained mouth with great force, causing Lupin to choke. He struggled against Snape's hand, though he had no choice but to swallow when the vial emptied.
"Full moon?" Ron gaped from his corner. "What do you–?"
"Professor Lupin's a werewolf," cut in Hermione dismissively, ignoring Ron's horrified gasp. "We figured it out ages ago."
"What are you doing to him?" yelled her father. Snape turned back around, rage triggered once more by the sound of Sirius's voice.
"SILENCE!" he yelled, casting a curse that sealed her father's mouth shut. His eyes burned with hatred. "Your last words, Black, spoken in vain. How very fitting, lips shut before the final Kiss." The little colour remaining in her father's face drained at the words, and Ariadne's stomach turned at the sight.
"Stop it!" she yelled, but Snape would not listen. Not now, not to her. She who he hated nearly as much, tainted by the sins of her father.
"Please, Professor," Hermione beseeched, eyes wide as she pleaded with Snape. It was pointless, Ariadne knew. The way Snape looked at her father – he did not see a man when he looked at Sirius Black. He saw an opportunity for revenge. "What if there has been a mistake? What could it hurt? To hear him out."
"DO NOT SPEAK ABOUT WHAT YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND!" yelled Snape again. His face held unadulterated fury, not unlike the time that Ariadne walked out of his lecture, but it was accompanied now by a mad glint that she had not seen ever before. Spittle collected at the corners of his lips as his mouth twisted, practically deranged. "Vengeance shall be had tonight, and it shall be sweet."
"Please," tried Hermione once more, tears welling in her eyes. Snape jerked his head in her direction. "KEEP QUIET YOU STUPID GIRL."
He moved to grab Professor Lupin and motioned generally towards her father. "I have the werewolf," he sneered, stepping towards the door. Her father levitated with a swish of Snape's wand, helpless and hopeless in the middle of the room.
Harry crossed the room in three quick strides, blocking the door just before Snape managed to reach it.
"Out of the way, Potter," Snape said between clenched teeth, but Harry cut him off.
"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year. You've got to give them a chance, Professor, it just doesn't make sense."
"OUT OF THE WAY, I SAID!" he yelled, and Harry yelled right back.
"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry's chest heaved as he stared at Professor Snape, green eyes burning with more hatred than Ariadne had known him capable to hold. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN!"
"Just like your father, Potter. You too swagger around school, a Black trailing after you like a shadow. Look where it got him! You should be thanking me on your hands and knees. You'd have been well served if he'd killed you – you'd have died like your father, too, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black. Now I'll repeat myself once more, or el–"
"STUPEFY!"
Harry reached for his wand, but he was too late, for Ariadne had had enough. She was faster to it, had not put hers away when Lupin entered as her friends had. Snape froze where he stood before keeling over gently, falling to the floor with a light thud.
"Well done, Ariadne," lauded Professor Lupin. Once the shock wore off the fact that Ariadne had attacked a professor, Hermione had moved into action, freeing Lupin from his binds. "Very well cast."
Ariadne did not smile, and she did not lower her wand. "You've got one shot," she said, removing Snape's spells on her father. He fell to the floor in a heap. "I don't trust either of you, not one bit. And if you can't prove it, then the Kiss it will have to be." She did not know if she meant it. She did not know if she had a choice.
"Then we'll prove it," Lupin replied seriously. "Hand Peter – Scabbers – over to me."
Ariadne reached into her robes and pinched Scabbers' wormy tail, hardening her heart to Ron's protests. Scabbers squirmed madly in her grip, screeching and squealing, but Ariadne did not let go. Lupin thanked her quietly as they made the exchange, holding Scabbers up high towards the dim light of the full moon for inspection.
"He's missing a toe," he said breathlessly, awed at his own discovery. Lupin stared at Sirius with undisguised delight. If he did not truly believe his friend before, he certainly did now. Sirius nodded in return.
"So what?" asked Ron. "He's always been missing a toe. Pet store said he got in a fight with another rat. Scabbers is scrappy, always has been."
"No," breathed Hermione, stepping closer slowly. "Don't you remember, Ron, what McGonagall said in Hogsmeade. All that was left of Pettigrew was... a finger."
"Ron," she continued. "How long has Scabbers been in your family?"
Ron gulped. "Ab–about twelve years."
Ariadne did not speak, stomach in her throat. The toe...
"That's about four times as long as the average rat." Hermione's voice was a whisper.
"It doesn't matter," said Harry resolutely, still standing by the door. "So, he didn't kill Pettigrew. It doesn't change the fact that he killed my parents!"
"I did, Harry," her father said, eyes wide as he stared at his godson. "I did kill your parents, but I did not betray them. I'd have died first."
"It was my idea, you see. I thought I was so brilliant – I thought no one would suspect simpering, whimpering little Peter Pettigrew to be James and Lily's Secret Keeper. I persuaded them to make the switch. They didn't want to – they trusted me best – but I swore, swore to James that it was better this way. And they believed me."
Harry lowered his wand, arm wavering as Sirius's voice cracked with despair. Rage melted out of Harry and formed anew in Sirius, as he turned toward the rat in Lupin's hand with venomous eyes.
"It was him that betrayed them. I went to check on you that night, you know," he said to the rat, who squirmed harder than ever at his words. Lupin kept his grip firm. "To make sure that you were safe." Sirius laughed to himself slightly. "What a fool I had been. I apparated to James's straight away, but even then I still hoped – still did not allow myself to believe. But I saw their house, and I found their bodies. And I knew what you had done."
Sirius turned back Harry now. "What I had done."
"For that," Sirius raised his wand now, steadying his shaky arm in the rat's direction. "You will die tonight, Peter."
"Sirius!" Lupin called, intervening as her father pulled his arm back but before he spoke the incantation. "We must– we must force him to show himself. The children deserve to know for sure. They deserve the truth."
"Fine," growled her father. "We'll do it your way for now, Remus. On the count of three, let's end this. Together."
Ariadne held her breath as the two men counted, wands glowing with a flash of sudden light. Everything happened as though in slow motion, and it had none of the grace with which her father had transformed from dog to man. Lupin let go of the rat to cast the spell, and it began to run as soon as it hit the floor. But with its first mad scramble, limbs began sprouting and and matted fur receded as the half-rat grew in size, becoming enormous until before her was a horrible little man, scrunching his nose and chomping his teeth on all fours.
He was distinctly rodent-like in appearance, Peter Pettigrew, and Ariadne wondered briefly if that had always been the case, or if his last twelve years of transformation had left him permanently affected.
"Hello, Peter," Professor Lupin greeted casually, as though rats often erupted into his old school friends.
Well, thought Ariadne. I suppose they did.
Pettigrew rose to his feet, but he continued wringing his pointed hands together before him. "Sirius," he tried with a frightened grin. "Remus. My old friends." Pettigrew's eyes darted to the exit before him. Harry straightened his stance in front of the door, shock giving way to reflex.
"Remus," the horrible little man begged, hands writhing together in a mockery of a plea. "He's going to kill me, Remus. He tried to, Remus, tried to when I learned he was working for You-Know-Who! I swear it! Twelve years I've been hiding. Twelve years I've been afraid!"
"Shut up." Ariadne surprised herself in speaking, voice hollow as it rung in her own ears. She surprised Peter as well, and the man turned his efforts over to her. He fell to his knees at her feet, grubby hands reaching the bottom of her robes as she kicked him away.
"Don't touch her!" The demand was twofold, shouted from the separate corners of the room in which each Harry and her father stood. Pettigrew ignored them both in turn, attention entirely on Ariadne.
"Sweet Ariadne," he implored, watery eyes staring up at her. She tried her hardest to look away but found that she could not, trapped by some sort of morbid curiosity. "I remember when you were born, Ariadne. And here you are, all grown up. You've become so beautiful, Ariadne. So kind. I know it's in your heart to help a pathetic old man like me. I've been at Hogwarts with you all this time, sweet Ariadne. I was with you even when they weren't." He motioned towards Lupin and her father with a twitch of his head.
Ariadne pulled her robes out of Peter's grasp in disgust. "You're nobody," she hissed. "You don't know me at all."
Pettigrew had always picked his sides carefully, and he knew when to cut his losses. He trembled as he maneuvered his body towards the exit, crawling on all fours as he made his way to Harry instead, leaving Ariadne behind.
"Harry," Pettigrew breathed, shuffling forward in an attempt to kiss the toe of Harry's shoe. Harry pulled his foot away before contact was made, staring down at the creature before him with disgust. "Oh, Harry. You look just like your father, just like my friend James. He wouldn't have wanted me killed, James. He would have understood. He would have shown me mercy."
"How dare you," her father growled, voice low and uncontrolled as he stepped forward to seize Pettigrew by the shoulder. "How dare you speak his name to Harry?" Sirius threw Peter backwards onto the floor, moving forward to stand over him. Resting on his elbows behind him, Pettigrew burst into frightened tears. "You sold Lily and James to Voldemort, Wormtail. Do you deny it?"
"I was never brave like you and James," whimpered Pettigrew. He was heaving great sobs as he spoke, and his words came tremulously. "I was scared, Sirius. I had no choice."
"Then you should have DIED!" bellowed her father. "DIED rather than betray your friends. As we would have done for you!"
Professor Lupin joined her father's side, the two men standing shoulder to shoulder before the man they used to call friend.
"You should have realized," said Professor Lupin quietly, "that if Voldemort did not kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter." Without speaking, as though connected by some greater force, Professor Lupin and her father raised their wands in unison. Ariadne wanted to close her eyes but forced herself to keep them open, silver gaze wide on the sobbing heap on the floor. He would die, then.
"NO!" yelled Harry from across the room. Sirius and Lupin paused, wands still in the air as they allowed Harry to press forward, using his body to shield Pettigrew. He faced their wands head on. "You can't kill him."
"We must," her father snarled, expression directed to the man on the floor rather than his godson. "For revenge. For justice."
"I know," panted Harry. "I know. But you can't. You can't kill him. Ariadne?" Harry turned to her, green eyes wide as he implored her silently for backup.
Ariadne startled at the sound of her name. She had not been disappointed when Harry rushed in front of Pettigrew, but she had not been relieved either. She had been prepared to watch Pettigrew die.
"Harry," Ariadne breathed in return. She had not moved, not dared to shift an inch since Pettigrew moved from her feet, but for some reason she felt as breathless as he. "I don't..." Ariadne trailed off. She had been prepared to watch Pettigrew die, but she had not been prepared to have his fate rest in her hands. Harry understood, and Harry waited, still shielding Pettigrew's trembling form, still facing her father and Lupin's outstretched wands.
Ariadne dragged her eyes from Harry to Pettigrew and finally, to her father. He was prepared to kill, that much was clear. There was hatred in his eyes that overwhelmed all else, a mad glint reflected that was not unlike that she had seen in Snape's. He was teetering, she could see, carelessly traversing the narrow landscape at the centre of madness and sanity. Her resolve strengthened.
"He's right," Ariadne spoke finally, and she did not allow the disappointment that cascaded over her father's face phase her. It was not as though he had not before disappointed her. "We'll take him up to the castle. He'll go to Azkaban. But you can't kill him."
"Very well," Lupin nodded once, internalizing the change in plans much more quickly than her father was able. "I'm going to tie him up, then, and we'll take him to Dumbledore."
"Fine," Sirius grunted, turning his attention from his daughter to Pettigrew. "But if you transform, Peter, then we will kill you. Do you understand?"
Pettigrew nodded emphatically, spewing niceties at his old friends who turned away from him in disgust, adding in a Silencing charm for good measure. Pettigrew kissed the hems of Harry's robes, then, and Harry snarled at him in return.
"What about Snape?" interjected Ron, jerking his head towards their unconscious Potions professor.
"Leave him," her father barked, and Ron flinched back, still afraid of Sirius Black. Lupin shook his head.
"We'll take him back with us," he said evenly, staring at her father as if awaiting rebuke. Her father did not speak, and Lupin continued. "It was a simple stunner. He should be coming to by the time we reach the castle, but I suppose we don't need to be too hasty in waking him." Lupin levitated Snape with his wand, and he dangled high in the air, as her father had at Snape's hand earlier.
"Two of us should be chained to it," her father said instead, kicking his foot in Pettigrew's general direction.
"I'll do it," Ron replied savagely, glaring at Pettigrew. Ariadne remembered with a jolt the funeral that Ron had held for Scabbers, the one that she, Ginny, and Harry had treated as a laugh. Ron had cried when he thought that Crookshanks had killed Scabbers. He'd been prepared to end his friendship with Hermione over it. And none of it was real, in the end.
"Me too," Ariadne added, catching Ron's eyes meaningfully. He understood, she thought, and responded with a grim sort of smile. They were both injured, anyhow. There was no sense tying anyone still able to fight to him, lest they need to defend themselves along the way.
Seeing the sense, Lupin nodded. "Allow me to treat you both, at least. Not as good as Madam Pomfrey, but enough to tide you over until the Hospital Wing. Sirius can conjure some manacles when that's finished."
Ariadne frowned as Professor Lupin moved to tend to Ron's leg, speaking up only when he turned his attention to her broken arm.
"Isn't there a spell you can do?" she asked quietly, gritting her teeth as he bound her arm to her waist with bandages. Merlin, that hurt. "Something to keep him from transforming? I won't be able to keep my wand on him the whole time, not with my arm like this."
Lupin sighed in contemplation. "There's none," he revealed. "But Peter wouldn't dare transform. He's too afraid of your father and myself. He always has been."
Ariadne shook her head, unable to explain her fears to those unwilling to hear it. But how could they not see? They had underestimated Pettigrew before, and it had cost them greatly.
"What about a modified Body-Bind, Professor?" offered Hermione helpfully, having overheard from Ariadne's side. "It doesn't target Animagi, but the theoretical application of the spell suggests that it could bind all nerves. Some slight modification of the wandwork could more precisely target those which are at the heart of the Animagus transformation rather than those of the physical body."
Lupin hummed thoughtfully before nodding once, eyes bright with intellectual curiosity. "We could try it," he said before casting a quick Petrificus Totalus over Pettigrew. Ariadne squeezed Hermione's hand to show her appreciation, and Hermione squeezed back. "You really are the brightest witch of your age, Hermione," added Lupin when the spell was complete, observing the way that Pettigrew was able to move but could not transform, even as his face scrunched up in concentration. "Lesser men have dedicated their careers to this study, to no avail."
Hermione practically swooned at the compliment. A step up from Lockhart, at least.
⭒☆⭒☆⭒☆⭒☆⭒☆⭒☆⭒
It was only one year ago that Ariadne was interlocked in a human-bird chain composed of three of her friends, Dumbledore's phoenix, and her Defence professor, flying out of the Chamber of Secrets and into the girl's bathroom.
Now here she stood, making her way towards the castle from the Shrieking Shack, chained to Ron's rat Scabbers while her Potions professor, Defence professor, three best friends, and escaped convict father followed closely behind.
The more things seemed to change, she realized, the more they stayed the same.
Ariadne could feel her father's eyes on her from behind, even though she could not see. She knew he wanted to talk to her, and still she did not slow down to allow him to catch up. He could talk to her if he liked, but she would not make it easy. Why should she?
She focused instead on taking one step at a time as she and Ron dragged Pettigrew between them. It changed everything, that her father was innocent, but it also changed very little at all. For it had been thirteen years since she'd seen him. Thirteen years that he could have escaped. She knew it was unfair, what had happened to him, was practically ill at the injustice of it all. But why now? Why not then?
She had more questions than she had answers, but she didn't have the energy to ask. Not now, at least. Maybe she was like her father in that way.
Harry did not share her same qualms, moving to her father's side as soon as he was able. Ariadne struggled to hear their conversation over the sound of the grass treading beneath her feet, but Ron had the good sense not to make conversation as she strained her ears to listen.
"– understand, obviously. I figured you'd want to stay with your aunt and uncle instead," she heard finally. Her father's voice, though dejected, was eased at once by the pure excitement of Harry's response.
"I can live with you? Do you mean it?"
"Yeah, yes. Of course you can live with me, you and Ariadne both, whenever she wants to get away from her mother."
"My mother's dead," Ariadne said loudly, cringing at herself. She had not planned to get involved. She'd wanted to stoically truck along, Ron by her side, but could not help the indignation that rose when she heard her name, words bubbling out of her before she had the chance to think. She sighed, then, for it was too late to backtrack, and paused her movement to allow Harry and her father to catch up. Ron, who had worked out a rhythm between the three of them, was none too pleased.
"I'm sorry," her father said when he reached her, searching. Avoid his gaze. "I didn't know."
Would it have even mattered if he had? You never gave a damn, Ariadne thought to reply. She raised me alone. She died alone.
But she elected for diplomacy instead. "Yes," she replied, voice stiff even to her own ears. "Over three years ago, now. I live with the Malfoys."
The reaction was instantaneous, concern melting into fury as rage encompassed her father's face. "The Malfoys?" Sirius said hotly. "You live with Narcissa and Lucy?" He spat out the name like a curse.
"The Malfoys have been very good to me," Ariadne defended, feeling suddenly quite offended on their behalf. Whatever the Malfoys had been, at least they had been there.
A poorly disguised snort sounded out from the right of her. "Good to you?" asked Ron, eyeing her with confusion. "Didn't Lucius Malfoy practically chase you out of the house himself? The mum's alright, I suppose, if you can get over that expression. Like she's got dung under her nose. And the fact that she spawned Malfoy."
Ariadne reddened, and very resolutely did not look at her father. "That was one time, Ron. Otherwise, it's been perfectly lovely."
Ron snorted again and did not bother trying to conceal it this time. "Yeah, alright," he conceded. "Perfectly lovely, my ars–"
Ron was cut off by a sharp elbow to the shoulder, courtesy of Hermione. "Ronald!" she said sternly, and Ron lowered his voice, keeping his curses to a murmur.
"What about you, Remus?" her father turned to his old friend, ignoring the antics of her own. "Where the bloody hell were you?"
Ariadne followed her father's eyes over to Professor Lupin, who had been indiscreetly listening along. Ariadne would be lying if she said she had not, only very briefly and only when she was feeling very alone, wondered that question herself. Lupin paused when addressed, Professor Snape's levitated body halting along with him. Ariadne and her father waited for his answer expectantly.
"I had no claim without godfather," explained Lupin patiently. "And as I understand it, you appear to have been of the belief that I was a spy, at the time of Ariadne's birth. You gave that honor to James, if I recall correctly."
Her father appeared contrite for a moment at the reminder of the distrust that had blossomed amongst the Marauders in the early days of the war, but he was not prepared to drop the matter. "What about Andy?" he persisted, though Ariadne did not know who Andy might be. "You could have – anything would have been better than the Malfoys."
Ariadne opened her mouth to defend the Malfoys once more, though it was a position she had neither imagined nor hoped she'd find herself in. But she shut her mouth at the expression on her father's face, his eyes collapsing shut as if suddenly in pain. She moved towards him, jerking Pettigrew and Ron slightly with her as well, but she pulled back before making contact. Her hands remained in the air, hovering.
"The last thing I ever wanted," Sirius began, eyes still shut. He opened them suddenly, gray eyes meeting Ariadne's matching ones in an instant. "Was for you to be raised by a family like that. Like mine."
"Did they," he continued tentatively. "Did they ever hurt you?"
Ariadne turned to him, searching the worn lines of his face. There was nothing there but sincerity. Concern, even. She softened.
"No," she whispered finally, clearing her throat once before speaking again, louder this time. "Never. I was being dramatic, is all, when I ran away. Wanted to see Harry, I suppose." Ariadne attempted to ease the tension with a small laugh, and Harry offered a smile in return.
It worked only somewhat. Although her father moved far less stiffly now, appeased with the knowledge that Ariadne had not been hurt by the Malfoys, he did not smile. "You ran to Harry's?" he asked instead, looking between the two of them seriously.
Ariadne looked at Harry, silent question in her eyes. Harry spoke for them both. "Yes," he said slowly. "And then we had the worst dinner of our lives." He smiled at his godfather, letting him know that he was only joking. Kind of.
"Good," croaked her father, tearing his eyes away from the two of them and onto the forest next to them instead. His voice cracked. "Good, that the two of you had each other. I'm glad."
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Her father did not speak again, and though Professor Lupin made small attempts at conversation as they finally made their way back onto Hogwarts grounds, the grief emanating from Sirius Black could not be ignored.
It made for a rather awkward walk back, especially with Ron and Ariadne's trudge slowing down the rest of the group, weighed down as they were by broken bones and about fifteen stone of Peter Pettigrew.
Her father cared about her, at least, that much had been made clear. She searched for something, anything, that could break him out of the depression into which she and Harry had unwittingly dragged him.
"Who's Effy?" she blurted out at last, reddening slightly as she felt all eyes on her. Even Sirius had turned, looking up finally rather than keeping his eyes trained on the ground before him.
"What?" he asked, once he realized that it was him who had been addressed.
"Effy," she repeated. "My middle name? Even mum didn't know, just said that my father picked it out."
Sirius was silent for a moment before he smiled very slightly, yellowing teeth peeking through his parted lips. He was handsome once, she could see now, his grin taking ten years off of his haggard features. "Effy– it's short for Euphemia. Euphemia Potter, that is." Harry looked to Sirius in surprise.
"My grandmother?" asked Harry, and Sirius's smile only widened as he nodded.
"Yes," he began, warmth filling his face as he uncovered memories as though clearing out smoke. Happy memories had no place in Azkaban, so it had been a very long time. "Your grandmother an–"
A jet of light – a bang – and suddenly Professor Lupin was standing no more, a tangle of limbs draped unceremoniously on the floor. Professor Snape stood over him, preening.
Her father leaped into action, drawing his wand at once, but Snape had him beat, hitting him with a knockback jinx that had him flat on his back in no time.
"Not so fast, Black!" Snape yelled, the closest to laughing Ariadne had ever seen him. It was a horrifying sight, the quirk of his lips unnatural on his sallow face. "I'll have you Kissed before you know it, you and your werewolf friend. I'll see to it that your brat is taken care of. Expulsion, perhaps, though I'm sure Fudge would find a stint in Azkaban would not be remiss."
"I'll kill you first, Snivellus," her father spat. The smile dropped from Snape's face in an instant, and he raised his wand once more.
Professor Lupin heaved himself off the ground and cast a red jet at Snape from behind, taking advantage of his distraction. Snape deflected it easily, but this granted her father enough time to right himself and bring his wand to the ready.
"Confringo!" he yelled, parried by Snape's own responding curse. The three of them were soon enshrined in fast-slung jets of light, shouted so quickly that Ariadne could hardly follow who was casting what.
"Incendio!"
"Bombarda!"
"Sectumsempra!"
A jet of white light deflected, though Ariadne did not know from or by who, and there was no way to move, not with Pettigrew and Ron attached to her as they were. She felt a sharp sting in her right upper thigh, the pain deepening along with it. Blood began to trickle down her leg, slowly at first and then all at once until Ariadne could not feel the pain any longer, could not feel anything at all, until she was met with the sudden sensation of the grass beneath her knees.
Huh. How'd she get there?
"Ariadne!" someone yelled. Ariadne looked up with several slow blinks, waiting for her eyes to focus. Professor Lupin was on the ground once more, this time unmoving, while her father was attempting to reach her. He could not, it seemed, beaten back at each point by Professor Snape. The two sank further and further out of her eyeline as Snape pressed her father away and towards the woods, too lost in his attempts to win, finally, to care for his surroundings. Bye-bye.
"Ariadne!"
"You've... got..." Ariadne tried, licking her parched lips. Harry was not paying attention, staring now at the deep gash that had opened up on her leg. "Harry," she tried, and his eyes snapped up suddenly.
"Don't talk," he said, eyes wide and imploring. Ariadne attempted to shake her head, but managed only a slight twitch.
"You've got... to save... him."
Harry looked horrified. "No," he said, shaking his own head vigorously. "I'm staying here with you."
"He'll die... Harry," Ariadne said, but Harry did not move.
Hermione crouched down beside them, voice shaking as she spoke. "He's still breathing, Harry, just knocked his head."
Ariadne tried to turn her head to see who she was referring to, but she found that she could not. "Now, Ariadne, I'm going to try and heal your cut. It's just an Episkey, so it can't do much, but I should be able to stop the bleeding."
"Great." Ariadne choked on the word, something metallic on her lips. Hermione's brown eyes widened, but she did not say anything, focusing on the task at hand. "I'll... be fine.. then. You've got to... go."
Harry shook his head once more, and Ariadne grasped weakly at the hand on her leg. "Please... Harry. He's my... father. He's all... we've... got."
He breathed in deeply, but even with his eyes closed Ariadne could see determination wash over his face. He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione, silently imploring, and she nodded. "I sent up sparks. Someone should see. They'll– they'll be okay." Hermione did not sound certain, but Ariadne trusted her word. She had no choice, after all.
A yelp rang out in the forest, a dog in pain. The three of them froze at the sound.
"Go," Ariadne said, and Harry nodded, setting off at a run toward the forest. Hermione followed quickly, sending her one last worried glance before reaching her full speed.
Merlin.
Ariadne let herself lay there on the grassy path, inhaling deeply until she could feel her ribs before expelling all the air out of her body, in and out until she could think straight again. She felt her skin knitting itself back together, ever so slowly, and once she could keep her eyes open without wanting to vomit, she set out onto her feet.
It was with great difficulty that she managed to stand, and even greater difficulty to take that first step, now with the added drag of Ron's body. She motioned to Pettigrew to carry him, but she was no great threat any longer, drained of her blood as she'd been.
He could not escape, however, wandless and ratless and chained to the two of them, so he had no choice but to allow Ron's body to lean onto him.
Ariadne set off, placing one foot in front of the other, more and more lightheaded with each dragging step. She walked until she could not walk any longer, sight long since gone in favour of a black fog that clouded her vision. She had no idea how far she'd made it, then, hoped only that she'd come close enough to be seen.
She stumbled, once, though the weight of two men lightened suddenly, burden lifting from her broken body. She took one more step, then another, and then she could take no more, cast forward now into the sweet release of the blackness that had swallowed her.
Finally.
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very long chapter! i was going to split into 2, but i thought i'd keep it together as a treat. i've been writing as a way to avoid finals, so here it is!
please take a second to vote and comment if possible! and vote on the other chapters if you haven't! i live and breathe for the validation
in my original outline for this story, harry and aria actually weren't going to meet until tonight! but then suddenly i was two chapters in and i just did not have the patience
but this chapter also has the first scene i ever imagined for this story! 3 years later, finally