When Patterns Are Broken

Hermione slapped Malfoy, and in their next class they did Cheering Charms. It was the best Harry had felt in the month since Lupin confiscated the map. 

While his friends went to Divination, Harry headed for the dungeons. He crept down one of the many unused corridors, no portraits, no torches, utterly forgotten by the castle and its denizens. He paused in an alcove, holding his breath. After a minute, he moved on. 

Theo was already in the room, kneeling on the floor with a piece of chalk. 

“Check the angles,” he said without looking up. Harry put his bag down and walked to the chalkboard, reviewing what they had done. 

“90, 60, 30?” Harry said, looking down at the runes Theo had drawn. 

“Raido, for travel, representing the map. Othala for inheritance, as it was your father’s and godfather’s. Fehu for success.”

Harry knelt next to Theo, measuring the angles between the runes and the length of the sides.

“Together, Rof, to unlock,” Theo said. 

“It looks good,” Harry said, sitting back. He checked his watch. The backing was beginning to darken as the sun set. He watched the seconds tick by. “Five minutes. It’s also April 1st. And we’re on the cusp of Ostara.”

“I thought of that,” Theo said, looking at the book at the centroid of the triangle. In Harry’s possession, it had been named Your House, Your Castle, Your Keep, shut by a lock Harry had been unable to open. When he gave it to Theo for Yule, the name and language had changed, but the lock remained. Theo wouldn’t tell him what it said. 

Theo passed Harry a small knife. He sliced his finger, let it drip over the runes Theo had drawn, and watched his blood suffuse the chalk. Theo did the same. 

“Ten seconds.”

Theo backed away. Harry pulled out his alder wand, placing it against raido. 

“If this doesn’t work—”

 “Eldr.”

The runes burst into flames, almost scorching Harry. His blood surged, burning him from within. He swayed back, Theo catching him before he hit his head. His eyes watered, and he tried to blink it away. Abruptly, the flames went out, sucking all the air from the room. It was utterly silent. 

The lock clicked open. 

Theo laid him gently on the stone floor, then scrambled over to pick up the book. “It actually worked. We were right, it just needed a reason to.”

Harry coughed weakly. 

“Shit,” Theo said, rushing back. “Taran, water please!”

A goblet appeared on the floor, and Harry felt Theo propping him up. He drank. 

“I can’t believe that worked, but I have to, otherwise it wouldn’t have worked,” Harry said. “Circular reasoning. Or triangular, in this case.”

“Please don’t,” Theo said. He refilled the goblet with an aguamenti and held it up for Harry again. “You’re still burning up. We should have studied more. It's almost a month until the next full moon. We had time.”

Harry shakily put his alder wand away. “We should clean up.”

Harry’s relationship with Lupin had become frosty. Harry had stopped participating in class, because there wasn’t much else he could do to express how upset he was, and Lupin didn’t call on him. Harry had tried, and failed, to break into Lupin’s office to recover the map. A portrait reported him, and Lupin had arrived to release him from where he had been frozen. He didn’t even get detention. Lupin just looked at him sadly. 

With Hermione still working herself to death and Ron frantically researching for Buckbeak’s appeal, Harry hadn’t wanted to rope them into the heist. Also, he knew it would be something Theo was interested in. Not the theft—reclamation—itself, but the puzzle of figuring it out. 

“We still need a way to manage the portraits,” Harry said. “I think we can bribe Peeves to distract the ghosts, or bribe the twins to bribe Peeves.”

“I’m staying for the break,” Theo said. “Have you seen the amount of homework we have?”

“Have you met Oliver Wood?”

It was the night before the quidditch final and Harry couldn't sleep. He still felt twitchy from their improvised ritual, and Oliver had been relentless in training. He had no time for himself. He sat by the window in his dorm room, looking over the grounds. 

Something moved beneath the trees. Harry sat upright, squinting, and saw a flash of orange fur. 

“Crookshanks?” 

He watched the cat slink across the moonlit grass, wondering what he was up to. He pressed his face against the glass when another shadow emerged. A large, very familiar dog. 

Harry wrenched the window open, wincing at the sound. 

“Dog,” he called as loud as he dared. The dog paused, moving his head. “Crookshanks!” The cat’s ears may have twitched. “Stay right there!”

Harry dug around in his bag until he found his invisibility cloak and ran out in his pajamas. The Fat Lady was asleep, and he tiptoed around her before sprinting through the castle. He nearly fell in the entrance hall but caught himself, squeezing through the doors and dashing to the forest. To his relief, he saw two shapes waiting just under the trees. 

He skidded to a stop, grinning like a fool. Crookshanks totally ignored him, busily cleaning his ears with a paw, but the dog bounded up and let Harry hug him.

"I missed you so much," Harry said into his fur. "I have so many things to tell you."

The dog whined a little, and Harry released him. "Are you busy? You looked like you were going somewhere."

"Woof."

Harry glanced at Crookshanks. "I won't keep you, then. The quidditch final's tomorrow. Will you come watch?"

"Woof!"

Harry beamed at him. "Alright. I really should get some sleep." 

Harry gave the dog another hug, and Crookshanks consented to a scratch on the ears. Harry went back to the castle, going more slowly this time. He'd just got to the sixth floor when someone spoke.

"Harry, what are you doing out of bed?"

Harry ripped off his cloak and shoved it under his pajamas.

A light came around the corner, followed by Lupin holding the map. Harry stared at it accusingly. 

Lupin looked him over. The wet hems of his pajamas, his bare, grassy feet. 

“Were you on the grounds? In the middle of the night? With Sirius Black on the loose?”

"Bit rich to call me out when you're the one who helped make that in school," he said, nodding to the map. 

Lupin folded it up and put it away. "When I was in school there wasn't a mass murderer after me! You may not take Black seriously, but one would think what the dementors force you to relive would have had more of an effect. Your parents gave their lives for you. This is a poor way to repay their sacrifice.”

Harry stared at him, dumbstruck. 

“You should get back to your room,” Lupin said, turning to walk away. 

“How dare you,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “How dare you talk to me about my parents like that! How dare you use their deaths like that!”

“Harry—”

“A poor way to repay their sacrifice? How about it’s a poor way to repay their friendship when you've left their orphaned son alone for twelve years!” He snorted at Lupin’s expression. “What, are you surprised I know? I recognized you on thetrain. Even now you’re too much of a coward to be honest with me. At least Sirius remembers I exist!”

Harry turned and ran away, eyes burning. 

Harry wasn’t sure how he was going to get through the day. Everything grated on his nerves. A note was dropped directly in his cornflakes, a brief good luck in Theo’s handwriting that made him blush and glance at the riot consuming the Slytherin table. Malfoy looked as bad as he felt. He took solace in that. 

The game was a blur. He spotted a dark shape lurking near the forest and felt a little better. He was peripherally aware there were an unusual number of fouls, and that Malfoy was trying to tail him, but it didn’t matter. He saw the snitch and he dove. They never stood a chance. 

Harry dumbly heaved the quidditch cup in the air, smiling at the distant figure leaping for joy. 

A little after a week had passed since Harry had won the quidditch cup. He sat in the Great Hall, bookended by Ron and Hermione. He checked his watch.

“I wish you’d tell me where you got that,” Hermione said, not for the first time.

“I told you, it’s a family heirloom. It’s probably bespoke.” Harry had looked up that word specifically to shut Hermione’s questioning down. “I’m sure you can find an astronomical clock somewhere.”

Harry chanced looking at the head table, then stood up. 

“Where are you going?” Ron asked. 

“The loo.”

“With your bag?”

Harry grimaced. “I’m not feeling well.”

Ron made a face, and waved Harry off. He hurried out of the Great Hall, taking the stairs two at a time, then jogged down the second floor corridor. He slipped into a passageway that led down to the dungeons, a narrow staircase that switched back and forth. He threw on his invisibility cloak, and quickly walked towards the Slytherin common room. He stood against the wall, waiting. 

The wall slid open, and Theo slipped out. 

“This way,” Harry whispered. He lit his wand as a guide, still keeping himself covered by the cloak, pulling it off when he reached the secret passage. 

“This is convenient,” Theo said. 

“It wasn’t convenient to find. I remembered it existed, just not where.”

They walked up the staircase, pausing when they reached the landing. “I didn’t see Snape at the head table,” Harry said. “It’s about ten minutes to sunset, so Lupin should have already had his potion and be sequestered somewhere.”

“And you’re sure he’s not going to be in his office?”

“I’m mostly sure.”

“Harry.”

“The transformation is extremely painful. And while the potion helps him retain his mind, it isn’t a perfect solution. He may be…agitated. Would you risk destroying your office?" Harry shook his head. "There should be accommodations for werewolf students, but there aren't. I can’t believe they made him stay in the Shrieking Shack. Imagine being eleven and waking up there alone.”

“I thought you didn’t like him?”

Harry frowned at Theo. “What does that have to do with anything?” Harry checked his watch. “It’s time.”

They huddled under the invisibility cloak and crept forward into the corridor. Harry pointed at a portrait and whispered an obscuro, while Theo cast silencio. It had taken them the whole month to cast those charms consistently, and even after that Harry could see the blindfold was a bit loose on the portrait. They hadn’t even been sure the spells would work on portraits at all. 

“Step one,” Harry whispered. 

“There were steps to this plan?”

After dealing with the rest of the portraits, who mutely complained about what was happening, they reached the door to the defense professor’s office. Harry carefully tapped the doorknob with his wand with an alohomora. It unlocked. Harry blinked at it. 

“Should it be that easy?” Theo asked. 

“It was with Fluffy, and I think we both know that was highly suspicious.” Harry reached out a hand, then paused. “If it’s a trap, take the cloak and run. Leave it behind the one-eyed witch so I can retrieve it later.” 

Refreshingly, Theo didn’t argue. 

Harry pushed the door open.

“Accio Marauder’s Map.”

Theo shook his head and opened up his book.

“It was worth a try.”

Harry took a step in. Then another. 

The room was dim in the fading light of day. Harry looked around, matching the room to his memory of it. Nothing seemed amiss. He left Theo under the cloak and shut the door.

The only witnesses were the creatures Lupin had bought or captured for their class. A grindylow flexing his long fingers. A hinkypunk without a swamp. A group of snarling red caps. One had a cap that looked freshly dipped in blood.

"I kind of want the hinkypunk," Harry whispered.

"Focus."

Harry made a quick sweep of the room in case Lupin had hidden the map out in the open. Seeing nothing, he walked to the steps leading to the office. He prodded at the stairs. He tentatively placed a foot on the first step.

"Revelio," he whispered, just in case.

"That's too basic," Theo said.

"Doesn't hurt." Harry took another step, continuing to the top of the staircase without issue.

"This is about as far as I got," Harry said. "I got stuck in the doorway." He lit his wand and held it up to the doorframe, checking for runes. "I should have done more reconnaissance. I don't know anything about his background or what he's capable of. He has lycanthropy, he teaches defense, he aided in a complex enchantment integrated with the school."

"We also know he's kind to students," Theo said. "I think we can eliminate anything fatal. I'm ready, by the way."

Harry stepped back, holding the cloak as Theo worked. He moved his wand, tracing an outline of the door while chanting softly in a dead language, eyes never leaving his book. Harry watched for a moment, then turned to face the hallway door with his wand up. Snape always patrolled the second floor corridor on full moons, they'd been able to figure that much out. 

Theo's voice grew softer. Harry kept checking his watch, resisting the urge to do something. He turned when he heard the book close. Theo had slumped to the floor.

"It should be fine," Theo said, voice hoarse. 

Harry looked at the door to the hall, then draped the cloak over Theo. "I'm going in."

He stepped into the office. When nothing happened, he hurried to the desk, unlocking drawers and sifting through contents. There was nothing except quills, ink, parchment, books. Nothing personal. No map.

Harry felt like a complete idiot.

"It's in his briefcase," Harry said.

"What?" 

There was a scratching noise. Harry froze, turning to see a door he hadn't noticed. The door vibrated slightly, then something slammed against it. It didn't move in its frame, but the strength behind the blow was frightening.

"Fuck's sake," Harry said, disbelieving, backing away slowly. "He's actually in his office."

"Harry," Theo hissed. "I think I heard something in the hall."

Harry briefly looked over his shoulder, then focused on the thin barrier between him and an enraged werewolf. "We should have thought of scent," he said. "Lupin knows we're here."

"What?"

Harry stumbled when he backed into Theo. He waved his wand, casting a silencing charm over the doorway so Lupin's thrashing wouldn't draw attention. He pulled Theo up and got them both under the cloak. They got down the stairs just as the door opened.

Snape walked into the room with an expression of pure disgust. Harry and Theo edged away from him, weaving through the tables. Snape walked right past them and marched up the stairs. They moved faster, getting to the still open door. Harry pulled Theo into the hall just as Snape said, "Who's there? Reveal yourself!" and the door slammed shut. They ran to the passage for the dungeons. Harry pushed Theo in and sprinted down the corridor. Portraits shouted behind him, silencing spells long gone. 

He took a corner at random and ran up a staircase, panicking when his foot caught a vanishing step he'd forgotten. He threw himself backward, grabbing the rail before he tumbled down the stairs. Then the stairs started to move. He wrapped his cloak tightly around himself, waiting for it to stop, then climbed up to what turned out to be the fourth floor. Silently thanking the castle, he hurried to Gryffindor Tower, into his room, and through the curtains he had spelled shut earlier.

Dumbledore made an announcement at breakfast the next morning. Harry kept eating, fighting the urge to vomit.

"There was an attempted break-in to a professor's office last night," Dumbledore said. "While it is possible Sirius Black is behind this, we suspect it was a student. Happily, nothing of value was taken. I urge anyone with any knowledge of last night's happenings to come forward. We do not tolerate this kind of behavior. Your professors deserve your respect, not an abuse of their trust."

Harry could swear Dumbledore's eyes were boring into him. He yawned and slumped in his seat.

After breakfast Hermione and Ron cornered him.

"Tell us, Harry. Was it you?"

"What? I was sick last night, I told you."

"I didn't see you go to bed," Ron said.

"I was already asleep. You know I spell my bed because of nightmares."

"Harry," Hermione said. "We know you have some kind of issue with Professor Lupin."

"It's obvious to everyone," Ron said.

"That doesn't mean I'd break into his office," Harry snapped. He looked at their concerned faces. "I'm sorry, there's so much going on lately. The dementors, Sirius Black, Buckbeak, exams coming up…" He sighed. "We're going to be late for Ancient Runes, Hermione."

As she walked beside him, Hermione said, "You know you can tell us anything, right?"

"I know."

But he really couldn't.

The next day he passed a note to Theo in Arithmancy, explaining that he thought Lupin was keeping the map in his briefcase, or possibly in his private rooms. Neither location was accessible, unless they wanted to mug him. Even if they did, Lupin had the map. He would see them coming.

Harry was at a loss. For all he knew, Lupin had given the map to Dumbledore, and he was being monitored through it constantly. 

That thought made him question the ethics of what was ultimately an invasive piece of enchantment. He and his friends could make their own map, without tracking everyone. He'd even put the Chamber of Secrets on his.

Exams happened. That was the best Harry could say about them. He’d done far better than he had his first two years, having put much more effort into homework and studying. For some asinine reason, he and Hermione were double scheduled for several exams. They had to take one, travel back in time, and take another. Harry was somewhat impressed by how poorly organized it was. Astronomy at midnight followed by History of Magic the next morning was the work of a sadist. 

Buckbeak’s appeal and execution date were set for the end of exams, casting a dismal pall over it all. Harry’s last exam, Defense, was on that day. 

Harry approached Lupin before the exam began. “I’d like to go last,” he said.

“I’m sure that will be fine,” Lupin said, not really looking at him. 

Harry watched his classmates navigate the obstacle course of so-called dark creatures. A pool with a grindylow, potholes of red caps, a marsh with a hinkypunk, and finally a boggart. Ron got misled by the hinkypunk and mired. Hermione had a breakdown at the boggart, which was McGonagall telling her she had failed. Harry had mixed feelings about that, but Hermione was extremely distressed and he did his best to comfort her. 

On his turn, Harry immobilized the grindylow and waded past. He summoned all the caps off the red caps and tossed them away for them to chase. He considered kidnapping the hinkypunk, but left it hopping around its marsh. He paused when he got to the old trunk with a boggart. 

“Is there a problem, Harry?” Lupin asked. 

Harry looked at him. “Your biggest fear is yourself, professor. You wouldn’t understand.” And he climbed into the trunk.

Several minutes later there was a blinding burst of light and he was thrown out. Harry laid on the ground, shaking, then pushed himself up. Lupin hurried over. 

“Are you alright?”

Harry stood up, still shaking, and glared at Lupin. “It’s dead.”

“Pardon?”

Harry shook his head and limped away. 

The day got marginally worse when he ran into Cornelius Fudge, apparently visiting to see Buckbeak’s execution. Harry gave the executioner a wide berth and went to the common room while Hermione and Ron took their Divination exam. He practiced his accio and depulso on some pillows, watching them zip across the room. He stopped when his friends returned. Both looked dead on their feet. 

“What happened? Did something go wrong in the exam?”

Ron silently handed him a note from Hagrid. Buckbeak had lost his appeal. The execution was for sunset. 

“We’ll definitely go,” Harry said. “Hagrid needs our support.”

Hermione got a pinched look. “Maybe if you had helped—”

“You didn’t approve of the kind of help I offered. I still care about Buckbeak.”

Hermione deflated a bit. “It’s at sunset, though. We wouldn’t be allowed to go.”

“Especially not Harry,” Ron said. 

“We’ll just go under the invisibility cloak,” Harry said.

After dinner they lurked around until the entrance hall was deserted, then snuck out under the cloak. Hagrid numbly let them into his hut and failed to make them tea in his grief. Harry looked out to where Buckbeak was roosting among the pumpkins, indifferent to his fate. 

“Isn’t there anything anyone can do?” Ron asked. “Dumbledore?”

“He’s tried,” Hagrid said. “He’s got no power to overrule the committee.”

“I should hope not,” Harry muttered. Harry didn't think school headmasters typically had that kind of sway over the government, but it was Dumbledore after all, the man who had ordered Harry be taken to his aunt without regard for any laws or child services.

“Dumbledore’s gonna come down while it…while it happens…great man, Dumbledore.”

Hermione sobbed while searching for milk for their nonexistent tea. “We’ll be here too.”

“You ought to go back to the castle,” Hagrid said. “If Fudge and Dumbledore catch you out without permission, Harry, you’ll be in big trouble.”

“I’m sure he’ll let me stay on as gamekeeper,” Harry said thoughtlessly.

“What?” Hagrid asked, confused, but was interrupted when Hermione shrieked. 

“Scabbers?”

She carried a milk jug over and tipped it out. Scabbers tried to climb back in, but Ron swept the struggling rat off the table. Ron murmured sweet nothings to the rat, who was in such poor shape he may have been a reanimated corpse.

“They’re coming,” Hagrid said tightly, looking out the window. 

Dumbledore led the procession of Fudge, an old Committee member who Harry doubted was ever capable of disposing of dangerous creatures, and the executioner Macnair. 

They followed Hagrid out back, clustered under the cloak. Buckbeak had finally picked up on the tension and was looking around, pawing nervously. Someone had to do something. Harry pointed his wand at Buckbeak’s tether and whispered, “Diffindo,” but was pulled along before he could see what happened.

“Did you say something?” Hermione whispered.

“No.”

Hagrid told them to go back to the castle, so as not to hear Buckbeak’s death, and returned to his hut. They made their way through the grounds as the sun sank past the horizon. 

Ron stopped walking, struggling with the rat in his pocket. “He won’t stay put!”

Scabbers was making a racket, for a rat, but they still heard the group of men leave Hagrid’s hut, and the sound of the axe as it did its duty. Hermione sagged into Harry. 

“No,” Harry said, holding her up, unnerved by how callous the situation had been. It was so banal, so bereft of purpose, the petty vengeance of a spoiled boy and his cruel father. Harry hadn’t really believed Buckbeak was going to die. Why would he? He was just a hippogriff. “I don’t believe it.”

“How could they,” Hermione said through her tears. “How?”

“Come on,” Ron said weakly. 

It was nearly dark when they reached the lawn, walking in a daze. Except for Scabbers.

“Scabbers, keep still! What’s the matter with—ow! He bit me!”

“We need to keep quiet!” Hermione said. “Professor Dumbledore will be here in a minute!”

“He won’t stay put!”

“What’s the matter with him?”

Just then, Harry saw Crookshanks. 

“Poor form, Crookshanks,” Harry chastised. “There’s just been an execution!”

“Go away, Crookshanks!” Hermione said desperately. “Now’s not the time!”

Crookshanks was not to be diverted. As he got closer, Scabbers bit Ron one last time and slipped between his fingers, scampering away. Crookshanks pounced at him, and Ron threw off the invisibility cloak and chased after. 

Harry and Hermione broke into a run, following Ron’s shouting. They tripped over him. Ron was sprawled on the ground, having stuffed Scabbers back into a pocket. Harry was astonished they hadn’t been discovered yet. Fudge may think it was some students messing around, but surely Dumbledore recognized their voices? Ron was being particularly shrill. 

“Get back under the cloak,” Hermione said. “They’ll be back out any minute!”

Something moved behind them, thudding against the ground. Running towards them was an enormous black dog.

Harry stared open-mouthed at him. “Dog? What are—”

The dog knocked him to the ground, and Harry landed with a huff. Harry got his wand out in a panic. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

The dog pressed Harry down then rolled away, growling at Ron of all people. 

“It’s just Ron,” Harry said confused, getting to his feet. “Crookshank’s been after Scabbers…”

He watched in shock as the dog grabbed Ron’s arm and began dragging him away.

“Is Ron in danger?” Harry asked dumbly. He couldn’t comprehend the situation. He was about to ask another question when he was viciously smacked across the face and went flying. He looked around, lighting his wand. His blood ran cold when he saw where they were. They had chased Scabbers to a death trap.

“Hermione! Duck!” She fell to the ground just as a branch swiped at her. He pointed his wand at the Whomping Willow and shouted, “Immobulus!” He saw Ron near the trunk putting up a fight. “Ron, stop moving! The dog is trying to help you!”

Ron didn’t listen. He had his leg hooked around one of the roots. The tree started to twitch. Harry ran forward, hauling Hermione up, but before he could move closer Ron’s leg snapped and he was dragged into the tunnel.

“Harry, we need to get help!”

They retreated beyond the tree’s range. Harry wiped blood out of his eyes. He couldn’t imagine the kind of trouble they’d be in if they went for help now. 

“I’m sure Ron’s fine,” Harry said. “Except for his leg. We can get him ourselves.”

“But how do we get past the tree?”

Harry lifted his wand again, but before he could cast a spell Crookshanks darted through the branches and pressed the knot on the trunk. The tree stilled.

“How did he know?” Hermione asked, grabbing Harry’s arm. 

“I’ve seen him exploring,” Harry said, frowning. “He’s really smart for a cat.” He spotted his invisibility cloak and picked it up, tucking it into his robe pocket.

“I think he’s half-kneazle,” Hermione said faintly.

“Come on. It’s dark, get your wand out.”

They ran to the trunk, and Crookshanks led the way into the tunnel.

“Where’s Ron?” Hermione asked. “Where does this tunnel come out?”

“The Shrieking Shack,” Harry said.

“How do you know that?”

“I got bored when you two were at Hogsmeade,” Harry said. “I thought Ron saw me, but maybe he just thought Malfoy was trying to get me in trouble.”

Crookshanks had run off somewhere by the time they reached the hole into the Shrieking Shack. Harry went first, then pulled Hermione up. She was shivering, frightened. 

“It’s alright,” Harry said. “It’s not really haunted.”

“But, the dog…”

“He’s fine.”

Hermione stared at a mutilated chair. 

“That’s a bit harder to explain.”

There was a creak overhead. 

“They must be upstairs,” Harry said, hurrying to the staircase. He was slow going up, it looked like it was about to fall apart. “We—I didn’t come up here last time.” Hermione’s grip on his arm was so tight he was starting to lose feeling. 

They found a door at the top of the stairs. Inside was a room with a large four poster bed, on which Crookshanks was purring. 

“At least he’s fine,” Harry said sourly, shaking his head. There was a gasp, and Harry saw Ron on the floor holding his leg at an odd angle. Harry hurried over to him and knelt down. “I told you to let go,” Harry said, concerned and frustrated. “I know a spell for this, I looked it up just in case—” Harry swallowed. He didn’t want to think about going back to the Dursleys now. It wasn’t going to happen. “Hold still.” 

He pointed his wand at Ron’s leg and said, “Ferula.” Bandages sloppily wrapped around Ron’s leg, but his leg looked straighter and his breathing was easier. “That should work until we get to Madam Pomfrey.” Harry sat back and looked around. “Where’s Dog?”

“Not a dog,” Ron moaned. “Harry, it’s a trap…”

“What?”

“He’s the dog…” Ron pointed shakily over Harry’s shoulder. “He’s an animagus!”

Harry wheeled around, not believing his eyes as the man standing in the shadows closed the door behind him. 

Harry smiled, taking a tentative step forward. “I can’t believe it. This whole time? That explains so much.”

Sirius Black looked much better than his mugshot, cleaned up, in decent clothes, not starved. There was an echo of the boy Harry had seen in his father’s pictures. 

“Wait, if you’re an animagus…” Harry’s head spun, trying to make connections.

“I thought you’d come for your friend,” Sirius said. “Listen, I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but—”

Harry, who had tried to run forward, was suddenly grabbed by his two friends and pulled back. They had their wands out and pointed at Sirius.

“No, Harry!” 

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” Ron shouted.

“What are you two even talking about?” Harry said. “Let me go!”

Sirius looked at Ron with concern. “You should lie down. You’re going to damage your leg further.”

“Didn’t you hear me? You’ll have to kill all of us!”

“Ron,” Harry said. “Stop moving! You’re being ridiculous.”

“There’s not going to be any murder tonight,” Sirius said.

“Why’s that?” Hermione said, able to speak again. “Did you get your fill last time, killing all those muggles?”

“Did you really?” Harry said, furrowing his brow. 

“That’s part of what—” Sirius started. 

“Harry! You know he did!” Hermione’s wand arm shook. 

Crookshanks stretched, sprang off the bed, and stood in front of Sirius. Hermione made a broken sound at this betrayal.

“Don’t worry, Hermione,” Ron said bravely. “I’ll take care of Crookshanks.”

Harry put his head in his hands. “Can we please just listen to—”

The door burst open in a shower of sparks. 

“Expelliarmus!”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron lost their wands. Lupin snatched them out of the air.

“What the fuck!” Harry said, outraged. Lupin moved into the room, staring at Sirius. Harry looked back and forth between them. He had no idea what was happening now. 

“Where is he, Sirius?”

“Where is who?” Harry demanded. He just wanted his alleged mass murderer godfather to get through an explanation. 

Sirius sighed, then pointed to Ron. Harry exchanged bewildered looks with his friends. His eyes snapped to Ron's quivering pocket. If Sirius was an animagus…It couldn’t be.

Lupin was muttering to himself, having figured it out too. “Why hasn’t he shown himself until now? Unless…” He stared off blankly. “You switched. Without telling me.”

“Switched?” Harry said.

Sirius nodded. “We did. I was meant to be a decoy.”

Lupin lowered his wand.

“Sirius,” Harry started. “Just to clarify, are you saying—”

Lupin walked over to Sirius and pulled him into a hug. Sirius made a face and patted his back.

“I don’t believe it!” Hermione screamed. Lupin let go of Sirius and turned to look at her. She pointed an accusing finger at him. “You…you…”

“Hermione—”

“You and him!”

“Calm down,” Harry said.

“I didn’t tell anyone! I’ve been covering up for you this whole time!”

“Hermione, please,” Lupin said. “I can explain.”

“Could someone?” Harry asked the room. “I’m pretty sure I know but—”

“He’s been his friend all this time?” Ron asked, finally caught up.

“No,” Lupin said. “I haven’t been Sirius’ friend, but I am now. If you could please—”

“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!”

“I already knew he was a werewolf,” Harry said. “It was obvious.”

“Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,” Lupin said. “Only one out of three.”

“Don’t talk down to her like that,” Harry snapped. “You’re worse than Snape sometimes, honestly.”

Ron was trying to get up, but fell down with a gasp. Lupin moved as if to help, but Ron said, “Get away from me, werewolf!”

Lupin stopped, expressionless.

“Ron, what the hell?” Harry said, embarrassed by his friend. 

Lupin turned to Hermione, “How long have you known?”

“Since the essay,” Harry cut in. Lupin glanced at him, then back to Hermione. She nodded.

“Snape would be delighted,” Lupin said blandly. “Did you check the lunar chart? Or notice my boggart was a full moon?”

“Both,” Hermione said. 

Lupin laughed. “Well done. You are the cleverest witch of your age, Hermione.”

“I saw you drink Wolfsbane and followed Snape to see if he was giving you the full course,” Harry mumbled. “And checked the calendar.” Sirius gave him a wry smile. 

“If I’d been more clever I would have told the staff.”

“Most of them were working when he was a student,” Harry said. “They already know. Snape makes his bloody potion!”

“Dumbledore hired a werewolf? Ron said. “Is he mad?”

“I didn’t know you were racist, Ron,” Harry said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Some of the staff did think he was mad,” Lupin said. “He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I was trustworthy.”

“And he was wrong, wasn’t he?” Hermione said. “You’ve been helping Black this whole time!”

“I have not been helping Sirius,” Lupin said.

“Then how did you know he was here?” Hermione asked. 

“The map—”

“Werewolves have heightened senses,” Harry said, talking loudly over Lupin. “You know that, Hermione.” 

Lupin gave him a calculating look, but nodded. “I had a feeling you three would sneak out to visit Hagrid, so I was keeping an eye on you. I saw you returning to the castle, but you had someone else with you.”

Harry’s stomach dropped. He gave Ron’s pocket a quick look. There was no way. 

“I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought he was dead. Then I saw Sirius pull the two of you to the Whomping Willow—”

“One of us!” Ron said angrily.

“No, Ron. Two of you.”

“It’s Scabbers, Ron.” Harry said. He wasn’t entirely sure how Ron would react, so didn’t elaborate. 

“What? What’s Scabbers got to do with it?”

“Everything,” Lupin said. Crookshanks started hissing. “Could we please see him?”

Ron had managed to get ‘Scabbers’ out and was holding him close, looking scared. “What’s my rat got to do with anything?”

“He’s not a rat,” Sirius said. “I tried to get him sooner, I’m so sorry.”

“What? What do you mean? Of course he’s a rat.”

“You just saw a dog turn into Sirius,” Harry said. “Scabbers is an animagus.”

“Harry’s right,” Sirius said. “I’d recognize him anywhere. That’s Peter Pettigrew.”

“Ridiculous,” Hermione said. “He’s been dead twelve years. Black killed him!”

“I tried to capture him,” Sirius said. “Peter had just betrayed Lily and James. And Harry,” he added. “I finally cornered him and he blew up the entire street.”

“There were witnesses,” Hermione said. She shook her head. “Peter Pettigrew can’t be an animagus. There were only seven this century. He wasn’t on the register.”

“He’s obviously unregistered, Hermione,” Harry said, frustrated. He looked up at Sirius. “Is there any way we can prove it so we can turn him in?”

“I want an explanation,” Hermione demanded.

“Scabbers isn’t an animagus,” Ron muttered. “He can’t be.”

Harry pointed his wand at the rat. “Stupefy.” The rat twitched, then didn’t move. 

“What the bloody hell!” Ron shouted. 

“If it’s going to be story time I don’t want him running off,” Harry said.

“Good idea,” Sirius said. “We really should get a move on.”

So Harry was forced to endure the tale of Lupin and the three animagi. 

“...and James pulled him away, but not before Snape saw me. Dumbledore forbade him from telling anyone.”

“I thought he was just racist, like Ron,” Harry said.

“What does that even mean?” Ron asked. Hermione whispered something to him. 

“But he thought you were in on the joke,” Harry said flatly. 

“That’s right,” Snape said, stepping into the room, pointing his wand at Lupin.

Hermione screamed. 

“Do you think he timed that?” Harry asked Sirius, who snorted. 

“You forgot your potion, Lupin,” Snape said, eyes sparkling with gleeful malice. “I brought a goblet to your office, and I found a certain map on your desk.”

Harry could have strangled Lupin. No wonder he’d lost the map to Filch. 

“Severus, you’re making a mistake…”

“Two more for Azkaban tonight!”

“You fool,” Lupin said. “Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back in Azkaban?”

“He can’t help it,” Sirius said, looking down at Snape.

“I told him he’s obsessed with my dad and he lost it,” Harry said. 

Snape sneered, flicked his wand at Lupin and cords burst out to bind him. Lupin toppled to the floor. Sirius had a wand in his hand and started forward, but Snape raised his first. 

“Give me a reason, I swear I’ll do it,” Snape whispered. 

“Professor Snape,” Hermione said tentatively. “Their story was plausible. It wouldn’t hurt to hear…”

“You three are already facing expulsion, now keep quiet you stupid girl!”

Harry reached in his robes slowly, fingers searching for his second wand. Sirius gave him a quick look, then focused on Snape.

“Vengeance is very sweet,” Snape said, like an idiot. “How I longed to be the one to catch you.”

Harry whipped out his wand and disarmed Snape. He might have overdone it. 

“Harry,” Hermione gasped. “You’ve just attacked a teacher!”

Harry looked at Snape, who was slumped and bleeding on the floor, and put his wand away. “It was accidental magic.”

Sirius gave him an amused look, then bent to untie Lupin.

“Can we have our wands back now?” Harry asked. Sirius passed them over.

Ron was still holding the rat’s limp body. “Why would he fake his own death?”

“They’ve already said,” Harry explained. “They switched Secret-Keepers.”

“There’s an easy spell to prove that he’s an animagus,” Lupin said, brushing himself off.

“Give them Scabbers,” Harry said. 

Ron shot Harry a look, then passed him over. “If anything happens to him…”

In a flash of light, Scabbers the rat turned into Peter Pettigrew, also a rat. He wasn’t moving. 

“Oh, right,” Harry said. “Rennervate.”

Pettigrew gasped awake, and immediately started wheedling. Harry watched him, Lupin, and Sirius argue. The story came out in pieces, and Harry’s disgust grew. 

“I would have never betrayed James and Lily,” Sirius said. “I would have died before I betrayed them.” He gave Pettigrew an ugly look. “Or any of my friends.”

“I know, I believe you,” Harry said. Pettigrew fell to his knees and began to grovel. “Was he always like this?” Harry asked over his pleas. 

“I think it got worse with age,” Sirius replied. 

When Pettigrew tried to get near Ron, Harry moved in front and put up his wand. “I’ll incinerate you if you come near my friend.” Pettigrew immediately backpedaled. “My parents are dead, and for some reason you’re still alive. Now start talking.”

Pettigrew did, admitting to his spying and his betrayal. “You don’t understand,” he spluttered. “He was taking over everywhere! He would have killed me!”

“Then you should have died,” Sirius said bluntly. “Or ran, gone into hiding. You didn’t have only two options.”

Lupin raised his wand. “You should have realized that if Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would.”

Sirius looked at him, shocked. “Remus, what are you talking about? He’s proof that I’m innocent. I need to be exonerated.”

“I agree,” Harry hastily added. “You should have called the aurors or whoever ages ago, instead of taking the law into your own hands.”

“Vigilantism,” Hermione whispered. 

“What she said.”

Lupin sagged. “Very well, I’ll tie him up.”

“Stupefy!” Harry and Sirius shouted. Pettigrew collapsed. 

“Harry!”

“He’s a rat animagus,” Harry said. “Tying him up isn’t going to work.” 

Lupin still tied him up, which was prudent, and together he and Sirius levitated Snape and Pettigrew out of the tree and onto the grounds.

“You should probably leave,” Harry said to Sirius. “We only really need Pettigrew. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was worried you would be hurt,” Sirius said, walking next to him. “True, he’s been living as a rat for twelve years, but he’s still a full grown wizard, and an adult. Even without a wand he could harm you. Also,” he said, looking over to where Pettigrew floated limply, “he’s demonstrated he’s not above killing to make an escape.”

A cloud shifted, illuminating the grounds. Harry stopped walking. “Snape said Lupin didn’t take his potion.”

“The potion doesn’t stop him from transforming,” Sirius said. “It just makes it easier, and helps him retain some logical thought.”

“I know,” Harry said. “I did an essay on it. I’m saying it’s a full moon tonight.”

Snape and Pettigrew had already collided, Lupin having lost control of his magic. The transformation was horrible to watch, bones snapping, strangled snarling, clumps of fur breaking through taut skin. The pain looked unimaginable.

“What do we do?” Harry asked, holding up his wand. “Werewolves are resistant to magic. Ropes aren’t going to hold him.”

“I know,” Sirius said grimly. “I’ll hold him off. Get everyone to the castle.”

Harry hesitated, then gave Sirius a brief hug. “Please be safe.”

“I will,” he said, hugging him back. Then there was a dog in his place, lunging at Lupin-as-wolf and knocking him out of the air. 

Hermione screamed. Lupin ran at her, trampling Ron. Hermione's head hit the ground with a sick crack. The fall had woken Pettigrew up, and he shrank, transforming, scrambling out of the ropes. 

“No!” Harry yelled, running forward. Harry couldn’t see where the rat had gone. There was a terrible howl, and Harry spun around to see Lupin running into the forest, chased by Sirius-as-dog.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?”

There was a loud yelp from the woods. “Sirius!” Harry started running.

It took Harry ages to catch up. He found Sirius turned back human and crouched by the lake, talking to himself. A freezing wind swept through Harry, and he looked up. 

Dementors. Dozens of them, a hundred, swarming. 

Harry got to Sirius’ side and shook him. “Can you get up?” Sirius kept mumbling to himself, eyes unfocused, a pallor coming over him. His eyes rolled into his head, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Harry cursed, moving to stand over him. The dementors were closing in. He could already hear the screams.

Harry braced himself, holding his wand. Sirius wasn’t going to die. Sirius was going to be exonerated. They’d be able to live together. Harry would make sure that happened. 

He knew he could do it, because he’d already done it before. 

“Expecto patronum.”

A silvery figure burst forth in a blinding display, driving the dementors back. They shrieked in fury, an unwholesome chorus piercing the night. Harry tried to see what was happening, but his vision was blacking out, the last of his strength left him, and he collapsed. 

Harry woke up to Snape accepting praise from the minister for the capture of Sirius Black. 

“I’m amazed the dementors retreated…”

“They were already unconscious when I arrived. I bound and gagged Black, naturally…”

Harry sat up. “Where are my glasses?”

Madam Pomfrey hurried over. “You’re awake, wonderful. Take some chocolate, dear.”

Harry ignored her, reaching around to find his glasses and wand on the side table. “I don’t need chocolate, I need to speak to the minister immediately.”

“It’s alright,” Madam Pomfrey said. “They’ve captured Black. The dementors will be performing the Kiss—”

“What?”

Harry jumped out of bed and started running, crashing into Fudge. 

“Harry?" Fudge said "What has got into you? You should be in bed.”

“What has got into you?” Harry snarled. “Killing people without a trial? Guilty until proven innocent? Where is my godfather? Where is he!”

“Harry, you’re very confused—”

“I am not confused,” Harry said, seconds away from immolating the Minister of Magic. “My godfather, Sirius Black, is innocent. Peter Pettigrew is alive. We have witnesses!”

“Minister, listen, please,” Hermione said, having hurried to his side. “Pettigrew is a rat animagus, we saw him transform—”

“You see, Minister?” said Snape. “Confunded, both of them. Black’s done a very good job.”

“You make me sick,” Harry spat at him. “We are not confunded.” He turned back to Fudge. “Either take me to Sirius or get out of my way!”

Madam Pomfrey appeared and attempted to choke him to death with chocolate, manhandling him back into a bed. Dumbledore swanned into the hospital. 

Harry spat out his chocolate. “Where has he been this whole time?”

After corroborating their story, and talking down Snape, Dumbledore asked to speak to Harry and Hermione alone. Harry was instantly on guard, holding his wand under the blanket. 

“It is too late,” Dumbledore said solemnly. “You must see Professor Snape’s version of events is more convincing than yours. Sirius has not acted like an innocent man.”

“How exactly is someone on the run from false imprisonment meant to act innocent?” Harry asked. 

Dumbledore looked at him with a grave expression, but didn’t answer. “What we need,” he said slowly, “is more time.”

“Aren’t you the Chief Warlock?” Harry asked. “Can’t you do something?”

Dumbledore sadly shook his head. “I’m not all powerful, Harry. I am just one wizard. Now, pay attention. Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick’s office on the seventh floor…”

Three hours in the past, Harry stood in the broom closet just off the entrance hall, fuming. 

“I don’t understand what he wants us to do,” Hermione said. “Why three hours?”

“Buckbeak,” Harry said simply. “I tried breaking his tether when we were down there originally, but it must not have worked. Dumbledore probably wants us to fly Buckbeak up to Flitwick’s office or something equally stupid.”

“Harry!”

“You can’t honestly tell me that Dumbledore’s best idea was two students illegally time traveling. We’re the only ones at risk if things go badly.”

Hermione pursed her lips, then said, “If that is his plan, it’ll be a miracle if we aren’t seen, or killed, or sent to Azkaban.”

“I’ve got my cloak,” Harry said, taking it out. “We should head down, it’s almost sunset.”

Wearing the cloak, they walked down to Hagrid’s hut and waited for themselves to leave, and for the adults to see Buckbeak. Annoyingly, past-Harry had managed to slice the tether. Buckbeak had just kept lying there. Harry bowed, and began hauling Buckbeak into the forest. 

“It was tied here! I just saw it!”

“How extraordinary,” Harry heard Dumbledore say. 

“He knows,” Harry whispered. “If our past selves had freed Buckbeak, we would have known in the hospital. This had already happened.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione whispered back.

Harry shook his head. “We need to move.”

“Search the skies if you will…”

They tugged Buckbeak over to watch events unfold at the Whomping Willow, tying him to a tree. It was frustrating to not do anything, but Harry knew that events had already played out as he remembered them. 

“I wish we brought a snack,” Harry said. “It's been a while since dinner.”

“How can you think of food at a time like this?”

“Hermione, we have to wait for hours. Oh, I know. Taran?”

The little Hogwarts house-elf appeared. “How can Taran help Mister Potter?”

“Could me and Hermione have dinner? We’re in the middle of…a mission.”

Taran curtsied then disappeared, two plates and two goblets appearing before them.

“What was that?” Hermione asked. 

“Hogwarts is staffed by house-elves,” Harry said. “How do you think all the cooking and cleaning gets done? Taran, could we have something for a hippogriff too?” A side of beef landed in front of Buckbeak.

“I can’t believe this,” Hermione said faintly, staring at her plate. After a moment, she started eating. 

Finally, their past selves exited the tree. Harry smiled bitterly as he watched Snape's unconscious body bob along like a puppet with cut strings.

"Lupin's going to come this way," Harry said, untying Buckbeak. He handed the tether to Hermione. "Take him down by the lake and keep an eye out. I'll stay here."

"Are you sure we should separate?"

"I'll follow Snape," Harry said. "You've got Buckbeak with you, he can defend you."

Hermione hesitated, then nodded, tugging Buckbeak along. Harry put on his invisibility cloak and circled around their past selves, keeping an eye on Pettigrew. He watched the transformation, saw Sirius harrying Lupin, his friends knocked out. Harry crept closer, wand never leaving Pettigrew. He watched him transform, running…

"Petrificus totalus," he whispered. The rat tipped over, hidden by the grass. Harry walked forward and jabbed his wand around until he hit him. He picked up the rat, his beady eyes wide with terror.

"If you were actually a rat I would feel bad," Harry said, shoving the petrified animagus into a pocket. He saw Snape twitching and Harry started running for the lake, breathing heavily by the time he reached Hermione and Buckbeak.

"I've been worried sick!" Hermione said. 

"Snape's on the way soon," Harry said. He watched himself standing over Sirius, casting a patronus. He laughed when he saw it was an unreasonably large dog.

"That's amazing, Harry!"

"I've been practicing all year." 

His past self collapsed. It looked painful. 

"Accio Sirius' wand."

"What are you doing? That's a fourth year charm!"

"He needs his wand," Harry said, snatching it out of the air.

"We're not supposed to interfere!"

"We already are interfering," Harry pointed out. "Technically I've already done it. Look, Snape's here."

Two stretchers trailed behind Snape. He conjured two more for Sirius and Harry. Harry checked his watch. "We've got about forty-five minutes until we need to be back.”

They waited. 

Harry checked his watch again. 

“Look! Someone’s coming out of the castle!”

“I think that’s Macnair. Let’s go!”

They mounted Buckbeak and flew. Harry managed to guide Buckbeak to the right tower, and wondered why he had gone with this plan instead of nicking brooms from the school. 

Sirius saw them through the window. Harry waved, then unlocked it. 

“I’m glad you showed up. I was about to use the chair to break the window.”

“Were you going to scale the castle?” Harry shouted as Buckbeak soared over the battlements. They landed on the West Tower and dismounted. 

“Not one of my better plans,” Sirius admitted.

“Harry, we only have about fifteen minutes,” Hermione said anxiously. 

Harry turned to her. “You can go on ahead. I wanted to talk with Sirius.”

“Harry—”

“Please?”

Hermione bit her lip, but nodded and ran for the door.

“How did you two manage this?” Sirius asked. 

“A Time-Turner.”

Sirius stared at him. “They let two thirteen-year-olds have a Time-Turner?”

“Hermione’s fourteen. And it was Dumbledore’s idea for us to do this instead of, you know, anything else.”

“Still! Mother’s right, this school’s gone to the dogs.”

Harry laughed, then reached into his pocket. “Look what I’ve got,” he said, holding Pettigrew up. “Oh, I’ve got your wand too.” Harry passed it over to Sirius. “Could you change him back into a human? I want to turn him in.”

Sirius looked concerned. “That might be for the best. I was going to owl him to the aurors, but this way we’ll have more witnesses.” He pointed his wand at Pettigrew, and Harry watched him transform, still petrified. Sirius stunned him for good measure. 

“Don’t want him spreading any tales,” Sirius said with a smirk.

Harry checked his watch. “I’ve got to get back to the hospital. I also need to steal the map back from Lupin.”

“The Marauder’s Map?” Sirius asked. “I thought it was gone for good.”

“I’ll tell you the story later,” Harry promised. He gave Sirius a quick hug. 

“I’ll see you at home,” Sirius said, mounting Buckbeak and flying away. Harry watched for a moment, then levitated Pettigrew and made his way through the castle. He stopped by the second floor to get the map from Lupin’s office, which Snape had left behind for whatever reason. 

Harry found Hermione waiting pensively near the hospital wing. “Harry,” she whispered. “What is that? Who is that?”

“Peter Pettigrew,” he said. He watched Dumbledore backing out of the hospital wing and locking the door. Hermione ran forward, and Harry followed at a slower pace.

“Well?” Dumbledore said quietly. 

“I’ve captured Peter Pettigrew,” Harry said. “Who’s in charge of law enforcement? Could you contact them?”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened briefly in shock. “I see things have become more complicated than anticipated. I can take him, Harry—”

“No,” Harry said. “He isn’t leaving my sight.” He moved around Dumbledore, Pettigrew floating behind him. “Alohomora.” The hospital doors sprang open. “Madam Pomfrey! A man just tried to attack me!”

Madam Pomfrey ran out of her office in alarm. Harry dumped Pettigrew on a free bed. “What is going on out here?” She demanded.

“Peter Pettigrew is a rat animagus who has been pretending to be Ron’s pet rat. He attacked us tonight.”

“Peter Pettigrew has been dead—” She stopped at the foot of the bed and gasped. “It can’t be!”

Angry voices were approaching the hospital wing. “Now what?” Madam Pomfrey said. “Escaped convicts, men returned from the dead, animagi, injured students! What next!”

“He must have disapparated, Severus…”

“He didn’t disapparate! You cannot disapparate or apparate inside of the castle! This has something to do with Potter!”

“Severus, be reasonable, Harry has been locked up—”

The doors slammed open as Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came through. 

“Out with it Potter!” Snape yelled in his face. “What did you do?”

“Professor Snape, control yourself!”

“I’ve captured Peter Pettigrew,” Harry said, gesturing to the man in question. 

“They helped him escape, I know it!” Snape pointed at Harry and Hermione. 

“Calm down, man!”

“Peter Pettigrew is alive!” Harry shouted over all of them. “He’s a rat animagus! He broke into the school! He is right here!”

He turned to Madam Pomfrey, seemingly the only rational adult in the room. “Could you please contact the aurors? Surely it’s illegal for a man pretending to be a rat to sleep in my dorm for years? He’s been in Ron’s bed!”

Madam Pomfrey paled and hurried over to the floo, just as Ron started to wake up.

“What’s going on?” he mumbled.

Harry looked at Madam Pomfrey talking frantically into a fire, a confused and spluttering minister, Snape seething and staring at Harry with pure hatred, and Dumbledore standing back placidly, watching everything with inscrutable eyes.

“Hermione can explain.” 

Harry waved goodbye to his friends and walked out of the station. He could see Vernon waiting by the car. He was already plotting his escape. 

“Did you not get my owl?” Harry asked. 

“That ruddy bird? We drove it off!”

Harry took a breath, then followed his uncle. “In the back, boy!” Harry opened the door, but before he could get in a dark shape jumped up and laid in the back seat.

“Sirius?” Harry whispered. Not knowing what else to do, he got in and shut the door. Vernon started driving.

A few blocks later, Sirius turned back into a human. 

Vernon bellowed, reaching around to grab at them.

Sirius raised his wand and said, “Imperio.”

“What’s that?” Harry asked, heart pounding. 

“A life sentence in Azkaban,” Sirius said lightly.

Harry jerked in his seat. “Why did you do that? They’ve got Pettigrew, there should be a trial soon!”

Sirius smiled at him. “You’re not going back to that place. Ever.” He looked at Harry, making sure he understood. 

Harry nodded, then sat back as Vernon drove them home.