HARPER'S MIND HAD GONE BLANK WITH SHOCK. The four of them stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cloak. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. Then, behind them, they heard a wild howling.
"Hagrid," Harry muttered before making to turn back, but Ron seized his arms.
"We can't," Ron said, who was paper white. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him . . ."
Hermione's breathing was shallow and uneven.
"How — could — they?" she choked. "How could they?"
"Come on," Ron said, whose teeth seemed to be chattering.
They set off back towards the castle, walking slowly to keep themselves hidden under the Cloak. 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, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!"
"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute —"
"He won't — stay — put —"
Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ron's grip.
"What's the matter with him?"
But Harper had just seen — slinking towards 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, she couldn't tell.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"
But the cat was getting nearer —
"Scabbers — NO!"
Too late — the rat had slipped between Ron's clutching fingers, hit the ground and scampered away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him, and before Harry, Hermione or Harper could stop him, Ron had thrown the Invisibility Cloak off himself and pelted away into the darkness.
"Ron!" Hermione moaned.
The three of them looked at each other, then followed at a sprint; it was impossible to run full out under the Cloak; they pulled it off and it streamed behind them like a banner as they hurtled after Ron; they could hear his feet thundering along ahead, and his shouts at Crookshanks.
"Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —"
There was a loud thud.
"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"
Harry, Hermione and Harper almost fell over Ron; they skidded to a stop right in front of him. He was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in his pocket; he had both hands held tight over the quivering lump.
"Ron — come on — back under the Cloak —" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore — the Minister — they'll be coming back out in a minute —"
But before they could cover themselves again, before they could even catch their breath, they heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws. Something was bounding towards them out of the dark — an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.
Ron was on his feet. As the dog sprang towards them, he pushed Harry and Harper aside; the dog's jaws fastened instead around Ron's outstretched arm. She and Harry lunged at it and seized a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as if he were a rage-doll —
Then, out of nowhere, something hit them so hard across the face they were knocked off their feet. Harper could hear Hermione shriek with pain and fall, too. Harper groped for her wand, blinking blood out of her eyes—
"Lumos!" she whispered.
The wand-light showed her 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 backwards and forwards to stop them going nearer.
And there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, dragging Ron backwards into a large gap in the roots — Ron was fighting furiously, but his head and horse were slipping out of sight —
"Ron!" Harper shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped lethally through the air and she was forced backwards 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 pulling him further underground. Then a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ron's leg had broken, and next second, his foot had vanished from sight.
"Harry, Harp — we've got to go for help —" Hermione cried; she was bleeding, too; the Willow had cut her across the shoulder.
"No!" Harry exclaimed. "That thing's big enough to eat him, we haven't got time —"
"We're never going to get through without help —" Hermione argued back.
Another branch whipped down at them, twigs clenched like knuckles.
"If that dog can get in, we can," Harper panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but she couldn't get an inch nearer to the tree-roots without being in range of the tree's blows.
"Oh, help, help," Hermione whispered frantically, dancing uncertainly on the spot, "please . . ."
Crookshanks darted forwards. 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 Harper's arm painfully hard. "How did he know—?"
"He's friends with that dog," Harry said grimly. "I've seen them together. Come on — and keep your wand 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 bottle-brush tail. Harper went next; she crawled forwards, head first, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from her wand. Seconds later, Harry and Hermione slithered down beside her.
"Where's Ron?" Hermione whispered in a terrified voice.
"This way," Harry said, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks.
"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asked breathlessly from behind Harper.
"I don't know . . ." Harry replied, "it's marked on the Marauders's Map but Fred and George said no one's ever got 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, Crookshanks's tail bobbled in and out of view. On and on went the passage and all Harper could think of was Ron, and what the enormous dog might be doing to him . . .
And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Instead, Harper could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.
The three of them paused, gasping for breath, edging forwards. 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. The windows were all boarded-up. Harry looked at Hermione and Harper, and the latter gave him a nod.
Harry pulled himself out of the hole and Harper followed him. The room was deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway.
"We're in the Shrieking Shack," Harper quietly said, eying the werewolf markings on the wall.
At that moment, there was a freak overheard. Something had moved upstairs. The three of them looked up at the ceiling.
Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide, shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.
They reached the dark landing.
"Nox," they whispered together and the lights at the end of their wands went out. Only one door was open. As they crept towards it, they heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud putting. They exchanged a last look, a last nod.
Wands held tightly before them, Harry kicked the door wide open.
On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings, lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of the trio. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out a strange angle, was Ron.
Harry, Hermione and Harper dashed across to him.
"Ron — are you OK?"
"Can you walk?"
"Where's the dog?"
"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritting with pain. "Harry, it's a trap—"
"What—"
"He's the dog . . . he's an Animagus . . ."
Ron was staring over their shoulders. Harry and Harper wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them.
A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black.
"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at them.
Their wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry.
"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. His voice sounded as though he had long ago 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 . . ."
Harper could tell Harry was boiling with anger. He started forwards, but she, Hermione and Ron managed to stop him.
"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to Black.
"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us, too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing up had drained 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."
"And who's fault is that?" Harper said, glaring at him. A small smile appeared on Black's lips.
"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"
"There'll only be one murder here tonight," Black said and his grin widened.
"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron, Hermione and Harper. "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 OUR MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and with a huge effort, he broke free of Hermione, Ron and Harper's restrained and lunged forwards.
Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid or maybe he was innocent, but Black didn't raise the wands in time. One of Harry's hands fastened over Black's 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, backwards, into the wall—
Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; Harper was making her mind up whether he was innocent or not, but when Black's hands found Harry's throat, she knew.
"No," Black hissed. "I've waited too long—"
Harper jumped onto Black's back, her arm around his neck, making him let go of Harry. "Let my brother go!"
The two of them fell onto the floor, her weight being too much for Black to bare. Harper rolled away, standing up in the proces and Harry gave her her wand back before the twins pointed them at Black.
"Going to kill me, Harry? Harp?" he whispered.
"You killed our parents," Harry said, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.
Black stared up at them out of those sunken eyes.
"I don't deny it," he said, very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story—"
"The whole story?" Harper repeated. "You've told me and you know what? I believed it! Foolish of me, wasn't it? I actually believed you, because who would do something like that to their best friends? But then you broke into Hogwarts, twice. You almost killed Ron and I'm not so sure anymore."
"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 never lied to you, Harper."
"We understand a lot better than you think," Harry said and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her or him, did you? Our mum and dad . . . trying to stop Voldemort killing us . . . and you did that . . . you did it . . ."
Before they could say another word, something ginger streaked past Harper and 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 sank his claws into Black's robes and wouldn't shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to the twins, and looked up at them with those great yellow eyes. Harper could hear Hermione giving a dry sob behind them.
Harry raises his wand and Harper gave him a confused glance. He wasn't actually going to kill him, was he?
"Harry," she quietly began, hoping to talk some sense into him, "you're no murderer."
He didn't reply. The seconds lengthened and still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at them, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron's ragged breathing came from the bed; Hermione was quite silent.
And then came a new sound—
Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs.
"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!"
Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks.
The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harper wheeled around as Remus cave hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione cowering next to the door, to Harry and Harper, standing there with their wands covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at our feet.
"Expelliarmus!" Remus shouted.
Harper's wand flew once more out of her hand, so did Harry's wand and the two Hermione was holding. Remus caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who stil had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.
Then Remus spoke, in an odd voice, a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. "Where is he, Sirius?"
Harper looked quickly at Remus. She didn't understand what he meant. Who was he talking about? She turned to look at Black again.
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, Harper glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered.
"But then . . ." Remus muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, ". . . why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless —" Remus' eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of them could see, "— unless he was the one . . . unless you switched . . . without telling me?"
Very slowly, his sunked gaze never leaving Remus' face, Black nodded.
"Professor Lupin," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going—"
Harry's voice died in his throat as Remus lowered his wand. Next moment, he had 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.
Harper felt as though the bottom had dropped out of her stomach.
"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.
Remus let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor, and was pointing at Remus, wild-eyed.
"You — you —"
"Hermione —"
"— you and him!"
"Hermione, calm down —"
"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shriekened. "I promised Harp I wouldn't —"
"Hermione, listen to me, please!" Remus shouted. "I can explain —"
"I trusted you," Hermione shouted at Remus, her voice wavering out of control, "and all the time you've been his friend!"
"You're wrong," Remus said. "I haven't been Sirius' friend for twelve years, 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 before Harper spoke up. "I didn't tell her. She figured it out all by herself."
"I know, Munchkin," Remus sighed before turning to Hermione. "Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have no 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, buy fell back with a whimper of pain. Remus made towards him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"
"Ron!" Harper snapped, forgetting for a second she was angry with Remus as she glared at her friend. "Don't you call him that! It's not his fault!"
Remus 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," Remus said coolly. "He set that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant. Did you check that 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.
Remus forced a laugh. "You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Harper said dryly, making both him and Sirius smile.
"Yep, James," the latter murmured.
"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"
"But they already know," Remus said. "At least, the staff do."
"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"
"Don't forget he hired Voldemort himself to teach us in first year and an total imbecile in second year, Ron, I don't see why you are so surprised," Harper replied.
"Some of the staff thought so," Remus said, ignoring Harper. "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 had crossed to the four-poster bed and sunk 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," Remus said. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"
He separated Harry, Ron, Hermione and Harper's wands and threw each back to its owner.
"There," Remus said, sticking his own wand back into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"
"If you haven't been helping him," Harry said, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"
"The map," Remus said. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it—"
"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.
"Of course he does," Harper stated. "He is one of the founders. He's Moony."
"You wrote—?"
"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, Hermione and Harper might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his Hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?"
Remus 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?"
"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it . . ." Remus said, waving an impatient hand. "The point it, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak you 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 towards the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."
"What?" Harry said. "No, we weren't!"
"I couldn't believe my eyes," Remus said, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I though the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"
"No one was with us!" Harry said, but Harper narrowed her eyes, thinking it all through. They had been with one more—
"And then I saw another dot, moving fast towards 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," Remus said. "Two of you."
He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.
"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.
"What?" Ron said. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"
"Everything," Remus said. "Could I see him, please?"
Ron hesitated, but after a nod from Harper, he put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, trashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's lap and made a soft hissing noise.
Remus 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," Black croaked suddenly.
"What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"
"No, he's not," Remus said quietly. "He's a wizard."
"An Animagus," Black said, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."
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January 7th 2024
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)