The Hidden Hero

The year started to wind to a close. With the last Hogsmeade weekend over, the students buckled down to study hard for their final exams. Harry was not worried about any of his subjects except Divination. He was one of the most studious in his year and he expected that he would receive high marks in all his subjects, except one. Unfortunately, he had never understood Divination and studying harder didn’t seem to make much difference. The crystal ball had always remained mysteriously fogged for him. Tarot cards, palm readings and tea readings all held no answers. He enjoyed the class only because Ron was in it with him, and could always make him laugh about Professor Trewlaney’s behavior. But, that wouldn’t help for the final exam.

With some trepidation, Harry took his turn in the examination room. The students had entered one by one to meet privately with Professor Trewlaney. When they were finished, they had exited out of a different door, so that the students who had yet to take the test had no idea what questions the teacher would ask. As it turned out, the test wasn’t so bad. When it came time to read the crystal ball, Harry just made up a story about Harry Potter coming to a sticky end. Professor Trewlaney was pleased, as he had suspected she would be. For some reason, the teacher seemed to thrive on predictions of doom and disaster.

“That was fine, Mr. Twist,” assured Professor Trewlaney, scratching notes on a tablet. “That’s all. You can leave through that door and I’ll go get the next student.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Harry politely.

He turned to leave the room, when, suddenly, Professor Trewlaney stiffened and her eyes became unfocused. Harry cast her a look of alarm. Her eyes started to roll back in her head and Harry wondered if he should run to get Madam Pomfrey. “Professor Trewalaney? Are you okay?” he asked urgently.

She didn’t answer. Instead, a harsh voice, completely unlike her usual breathy tones, issued from the woman’s mouth. “It will happen tonight. The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant’s aid, greater and more terrible than ever before. Tonight…before midnight…the servant…will set out…to rejoin…his master…”

Her voice trailed away. Then, like a dog throwing off water, Professor Trewlaney shook her head and came out of her daze. She noticed Harry staring at her fixedly and smiled pleasantly. “Is anything wrong, dear?”

Slowly, Harry shook his head and, in a shaky voice, muttered, “No. Nothing.” Backing away, he fled the room.

Harry’s head was in a whirl. Should he tell anyone what he had just heard? Was it a real prediction? He had never taken Professor Trewlaney seriously before. But, this was so different from her usual ethereal silliness. If it was a true prediction, what did it mean? “The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant’s aid.” Was Sirius Black the servant? How could Harry do anything to prevent this?

Harry was very quiet at lunch, as he wondered what he should do about Trewlaney’s odd behavior. Ron assumed that Harry had done poorly in the Divination examination, and commiserated with his friend.

“At least you know you aced the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam,” Ron said bracingly. “And I’m sure you did fine in the other classes as well. Don’t worry about Trewlaney.”

Harry nodded and smiled weakly. “You’re right. I wish I had quit the class like Hermione.”   

Hermione overheard. “That’s about the only smart thing I did this year. I definitely took too many classes. Next year, I’m scaling back.”

“I never could understand how you are able to get to all those classes,” Harry said.

“It wasn’t easy,” she replied. She played with a chain on her neck; whatever was on the necklace was hidden beneath her cloak.

“What’s that?” asked Ron, gesturing toward the necklace.

Hermione started, and realizing that she had been playing with the chain, dropped her hand as if burned. “Nothing!” she said a bit sharply. Harry and Ron looked at her curiously. “It’s just…something I borrowed and I’m going to return it. Today.”

Ron shrugged, losing interest in the conversation. Harry watched Ron dig into his second helping of dessert. Harry had no appetite himself and felt a bit nauseous. Finally, needing to do something, he said, “I’m exhausted. I’m heading back to the room to take a nap. I was up late studying, and it’s starting to catch up with me.” Ron waved a fork at Harry in a gesture of farewell, as his mouth was too full of treacle tart to reply.

Harry returned to his room and pulled the Marauder’s Map from his trunk. He stretched out on his bed, studying the map closely. He couldn’t see any dot on the map to indicate that Sirius Black was at Hogwarts. That was a relief, at least.

Harry was about to put the map away, and put Trewlaney’s prediction (if that’s what it was) out of his mind, when he noticed a bubble on the map moving in Hagrid’s hut. That was odd. Harry knew that Hagrid was currently in a clearing near the Forbidden Forest, giving his final exam to the Hufflepuffs. As Harry had left the Great Hall after lunch, he had overheard Susan Bones, a Hufflepuff student, say that she was on her way to her Care of Magical Creatures exam.

Looking more closely at the dot, Harry let out a gasp and gripped the parchment so tightly, it was in danger of ripping. He sat up straight and pushed his face so closely to the map, his nose was almost touching it. He was not imagining it. The dot read “Peter Pettigrew.”

How could that be? Peter Pettigrew was dead, killed by Sirius Black a dozen years ago. But, if that dot wasn’t Peter Pettigrew, who was it? The map wasn’t infallible. It showed him, Harry, as Mark Twist. Perhaps, someone else had stolen Pettigrew’s identity, and the dot was the thief.

Scrambling off his bed, Harry bolted from the room and ran through the castle, ignoring calls from his friends who saw him passing. Harry ran to Hagrid’s hut and stopped, panting, outside. Catching his breath, he pressed his ear to the door, but couldn’t hear anything. Feeling very guilty, Harry slowly opened the door, which was unlocked.

There was no one there. Harry felt a wave of disappointment. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but he had been so geared up to find something, it was a letdown to see the empty room. He glanced at the scrunched up parchment in his hand, and looked back at the diagram of Hagrid’s hut, expecting to see that the bubble had disappeared. But, no. It was still there! And, it still said Peter Pettigrew.

Harry’s heart started beating faster. Instinctively, he crept across the room, trying to be as silent as possible. Following the map, he moved closer to the location of the dot labeled Peter Pettigrew. Finally, he was in front of a cupboard and the dot was supposedly right in front of him. Suddenly, Harry heard a slight scratching noise and his eyes were pulled to a milk jar on the second shelf. Taking out his wand, Harry reached for the jar very slowly. He pulled it down and looked inside. He almost dropped it in his surprise.

“Scabbers!” he yelled. There was Ron’s rat. It had lost a lot of weight and its hair had fallen out in clumps, but it was definitely Ron’s pet.

“What are you doing here?” Harry smiled, and reached inside the jar to pet the rat. Ron would be so pleased that his rat hadn’t been eaten by Crookshanks after all.

Then, Harry froze. Wait a minute. The Marauder’s Map had said that the dot was Peter Pettigrew. What was going on?

Before Harry could gather his thoughts to try to make sense out of what was happening, he heard Fang bark in the distance. The exam must be over and Hagrid was returning to the hut. Stuffing the Marauder’s Map inside his cloak, and grabbing the milk jug with Scabbers still inside, Harry left the hut before Hagrid could see him. Harry felt Scabbers start to scramble inside the jug and, to stop him from escaping, cast a spell to keep the rat from being able to get out of the jar.

Harry headed back to the castle, peering into the jar from time to time as he walked. He was oblivious to his surroundings and was completely unprepared when a large object crashed into him, just as he was nearing the Whomping Willow.

“Ow!” He fell heavily to the ground, and the jar holding Scabbers went flying.  

He scrambled to his feet quickly and saw a big black dog bounding toward the jar. Harry realized that he had just been tackled by the dog, which was obviously after the jar. When it reached the milk jug, it grabbed the jar in its mouth and started running toward the Whomping Willow.

“Hey!” Harry yelled. “Give that back!” And, without thinking, Harry ran after the dog.

The dog slipped into an opening at the base of the tree. The tree started to creak ominously, and Harry knew that it would soon start thrashing its heavy branches. Before the branches could gain their momentum, Harry dived into the opening, following the dog. He found himself in a tunnel, whose entrance the Whomping Willow had hidden. Up ahead, he could hear the dog swiftly moving along.

Grabbing his wand tightly, Harry rushed after the dog. He had to stoop and turn sideways, from time to time, as the tunnel was very narrow. He felt as if the tunnel went on forever and he was just thinking over the wisdom of following the dog when, finally, the tunnel slanted upwards, and he came to a small opening. Slowly peering over the edge of the opening, Harry saw that he was in a deserted room. He edged forwards and looked around. The windows were boarded up and furniture pieces were strewn around. A memory teased at the edges of his mind and he realized, with surprise, that he was in the Shrieking Shack, the abandoned property outside Hogsmeade that was rumored to be the most haunted dwelling in Britain.

A creak sounded above him and Harry slowly climbed the stairs to the next level. Pushing open the door of the room at the top of the landing, Harry slowly crept inside. He saw the dog in the corner of the room, with the jar next to him. With a growl, the dog slowly transformed into a man. An animagus! Standing in front of Harry was the notorious killer, Sirius Black. Long, filthy, hair hung down the man’s back. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. He was grinning at Harry, with a slightly maniacal look.

Harry felt rooted to the spot, his voice deserting him. His wand was still gripped in his hand, but he couldn’t remember the incantation for any spell he had ever known. He gazed at Sirius Black as if hypnotized. He had been right after all. Somehow, Sirius Black had penetrated his disguise and knew he was Harry Potter. Obviously, Black was going to kill him now. Harry was in such shock, he wasn’t even frightened.

Black stepped close to Harry and wrestled the wand out of Harry’s hand. The action woke Harry from his stupor. As Black turned away from Harry, clutching Harry’s wand, Harry remembered that Sirius Black had been his father’s best friend. He was the traitor who had betrayed the Potters to Voldemort. Without warning, Harry flung himself at Black, screaming, “You killed them! You killed them! Traitor!”

He took the older man by surprise, knocking him off-balance. The boy hit at Black with all of his strength, striking wherever he could land a blow. Black grunted with pain. “Impedimenta!” he gasped.

Suddenly, Harry felt as if an invisible hand were holding him in place. Black shoved the boy and Harry felt himself fall backward. He couldn’t brace himself but, luckily, Black had shoved him in the direction of a bed in the corner of the room. Harry landed with a thump.

“Stay there, boy!” demanded Black. “I don’t want to hurt you. But, I’ve waited too long…”

Harry struggled against his invisible bonds. Black picked up the jar and peered inside. “Hello, Peter. Long time no see. It’s always a pleasure to see old friends.”

Harry stopped struggling. He remembered the dot on the Marauder’s Map with the label Peter Pettigrew. Now, Black was speaking to Scabbers and calling him Peter. What could this mean? And, did Black know he was Harry Potter after all? He had said he didn’t want to hurt him. But, didn’t Black intend to kill him?

Harry watched Sirius Black intently. Feeling the boy’s eyes him, Black looked back at Harry. The convict grinned again. “I have finally found him,” Black crowed. Harry shivered. Looking into the jar again, Black said, “Are you ready to die, Peter?”

And, with a wave of Harry’s wand, Black muttered an incantation and, with a flash of light, the rat was silhouetted for a brief moment. Then, Scabbers transformed slowly into a short, balding man, with small eyes. Another animagus!

Ignoring the boy in the corner, who sat frozen in shock, both men faced each other. “Sirius,…” quivered the former rat, “…my old friend.”

Black growled. “Do you have any last words before I kill you, Peter?”

Peter let out a cry of distress and fell to his knees. “Don’t kill me, Sirius! I didn’t want Lily and James to die. What could I do? The Dark Lord was gaining more and more power. I was scared, Sirius. I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen…He Who Must Not Be Named forced me…”

“Don’t lie!” screamed Black. “You were his spy!”

Pettigrew groveled. “What was there to be gained by refusing him? He was taking over everywhere.”

“What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed? Only innocent lives, Peter!”

In the corner, unnoticed by the adults, Harry listened to the men arguing. So, it was Pettigrew who had betrayed his parents! Sirius Black had been framed.

“It wasn’t my fault,” whimpered Pettigrew.

“No, it was mine,” Black admitted. Harry’s head jerked to look back at Black. What did he mean? “I should never have convinced James to use you as Secret-Keeper instead of me. I never suspected that you were capable of such treachery. You sacrificed James and Lily, and you would have sacrificed Harry, too, in order to save your pathetic skin. Then, you killed that street full of muggles to frame me for your death. Cutting off your finger to convince people that you had died in that explosion was brilliant, Peter. I have to hand it to you. But, it was also your downfall. It was your missing finger that made me recognize you, in your animagus form. I saw the picture of you in the Daily Prophet with your wizard family, when they won that lottery. I knew that you were heading back to Hogwarts and I escaped Azkaban to find you.”

“How…how…” Pettigrew gasped.

“You’re not the only one who can use the animagus form to advantage, ‘Wormtail’,” taunted Black.

Harry started at the name. He had forgotten that Black, Pettigrew, Lupin and his father were the four Marauders who had created his magical map. Now, he realized that Pettigrew was Wormtail and, remembering Black’s dog animagus, he suspected that Black was “Padfoot”. He wondered whether his father was ‘Moony’ or ‘Prongs’. Had his father also been an animagus? Did his animagus shape relate to his nickname?

Sirius continued his explanation, “I was able to survive Azkaban by transforming into a dog. The Dementors didn’t affect me as much in my animal form. And, knowing I was innocent wasn’t a happy memory, so they couldn’t leach that away from me. I lost enough weight that, as a dog, I was able to slip through the bars at Azkaban, and then swim ashore. I’ve been searching for you ever since.”

Harry rose slowly from the bed. The Impedimenta jinx had worn off and he could move freely. Not wanting to startle Black, Harry softly called his name. “Mr. Black. Sir.”

The other man turned in surprise. He looked at Harry in puzzlement, as if he had forgotten that there was another person present in the room.

Harry gulped. “Er…Before you kill Pettigrew, may I just make a suggestion?”

“Yes, yes,” said Pettigrew eagerly, still on his knees on the floor, with his hands intertwined as if in prayer.

Black nodded jerkily. Harry continued, “If you want to prove your innocence, why not take Pettigrew up to the castle now? Let him face trial.”

Black looked at Harry, consideringly. Slowly, he spoke, “I don’t trust the Ministry. They threw me in Azkaban without a trial. I’ve been waiting for 12 years to kill Pettigrew. I’m not sure I can wait any longer.”

“You are Harry Potter’s godfather. If you clear your name, you will be able to return to the wizarding world and, maybe…he can live with you.” Harry’s voice broke, but Black was too distracted by his own thoughts to notice.

“Would he want to, do you think?” His voice sounded doubtful, but with a twinge of hope.

“Yes,” said Harry, with assurance. “I think he’d want to. Very much.”

Pettigrew had been looking back and forth between Harry and Black, holding his breath. When Black lowered his wand, Pettigrew let out a breath of relief. “Thank you, dear boy,” he groveled.

Harry ignored him. “All right,” said Black. “We’ll go to the castle together. We’ll take you to Dumbledore. I want to kill Peter myself, but I can live with his being sent to Azkaban to face the Dementors as I was forced to do. I hope you receive the Dementor’s Kiss,” he told Pettigrew, maliciously.

Pettigrew shuddered but seemed to realize that it was prudent to keep quiet. Bound between Black and Harry, the three wizards went back through the tunnel, heading towards Hogwarts grounds.

Harry could barely contain his emotions. He was feet away from the man who had betrayed his parents. He itched to punch the sniveling little coward. But, he was also standing next to his godfather. Someone who would care for him. Someone who could, perhaps, love him. It would be worth discarding his disguise and claiming his identity as Harry Potter. Harry 2 would have to move over!

The trio exited the Whomping Willow and started on their trek to the castle. Suddenly, a cold chill started to fill the air. Black stopped short and Pettigrew almost bumped into him. Harry lifted his head, trying to catch the scent in the air. And then it hit him. Dementors!

Black started to moan deep in his throat. Dozens of dementors were filling the air, circling overhead. In their distraction, neither Black nor Harry paid attention to Pettigrew. Without warning, Pettigrew transformed into his rat animagus and slid through the chains binding him to his captors. Before they could stop him, Pettigrew had scurried away, his tail whipping out of sight.

“No!” Black cried, taking a step in Pettigrew’s direction. But, the Dementors started to swoop down and soon Black had collapsed on the ground.

Harry dashed forward and pulled his wand from Black’s unconscious grip. Spinning to face the Dementors, he shouted, “Expecto Patronum!” Harry had never felt as powerful. It was as if a force from deep inside him was hungering to escape. He was going to live with his godfather! He just needed to prove Sirius was innocent. Nothing was going to stop him!

A huge stag leapt from Harry’s wand, casting a bright silver glow over the area. The Dementors fell back as the stag circled the spot where Harry and Sirius were. Looking at the beautiful stag, Harry whispered, “Prongs,” recalling the nickname of one of the Marauders. It couldn’t be a coincidence. His father must have been a stag animagus and, now, it was Harry’s Patronus. Harry felt a surge of emotion looking at the stag. It felt as if his father were there, protecting him.  

Within moments, the air grew warm again, and Sirius stirred. The Dementors had fled and the Patronus winked out of sight. “Dad!” Harry cried, calling it back. But, it was gone. A hollow pit formed in Harry’s stomach.

After a moment, Sirius opened his eyes and groggily sat up. “What happened?”

“The Dementors came,” Harry said. Sirius looked up in alarm. “Don’t worry. I was able to drive them off.”

Sirius turned his eyes to the teenager. “Alone?” He sounded impressed. Harry nodded.

“But, Pettigrew escaped,” said the boy, bitterly.

“No!” Sirius looked wildly around, as if expecting to see Pettigrew still lurking.

In the distance, they heard shouts from the direction of Hogwarts. Sirius scrambled to his feet. “I’d better go,” he said. “They’ll never believe I’m innocent now that Pettigrew has escaped.”

“Wait! I’ll tell them that I saw Pettigrew! Please, don’t go!”

Sirius smiled grimly. “They’ll never believe a boy. They’ll think I ‘confunded’ you. Pettigrew has won again.” And, without another word, the man transformed into a dog and bounded out of sight.

Harry stared in loss at the spot where Sirius had disappeared from view. He was gone! And, he didn’t even know that Harry was…well, Harry. Disappointment threatened to overwhelm him.

“Twist!” Harry turned to see Professor Snape approaching, wand in hand. Behind him, a number of other teachers were trailing. “What happened? We saw Dementors circling.”

Harry told the truth without thinking about its wisdom. “They were trying to capture Sirius Black, but I used the Patronus Charm to make them go away.”

“Sirius Black!” gasped Professor McGonagall, who had reached the boy.

Harry nodded solemnly. “Well, where is he?” demanded Snape.

“He escaped,” said Harry, dully.

“You mean that the Dementors had him cornered and, because of you, Black was able to escape?” said Snape slowly.

Harry finally realized that his actions could be misconstrued very dangerously. He rushed to explain. “Black is innocent! I saw Peter Pettigrew. Peter was the real traitor! He was hiding as an animagus all this time – he’s a rat. Scabbers! Ron Weasley’s pet rat.”

The teachers were staring in amazement at Harry. It was clear that they thought Harry had lost his senses. After a moment, Professor Sprout muttered under her breath, “Confunded!”

Harry saw slight nods of agreement from a number of the other teachers. Snape was just looking at him through narrowed eyes. “No! I’m not confunded! It’s the truth. Sirius Black really is innocent and Peter Pettigrew is alive!”

“Let’s get you back inside, Twist,” said Professor McGonagall. “I think that Madam Pomfrey should take a look at you.”

And, ignoring Harry’s protests that he was fine, he was marched back to the castle, to the hospital wing. Later, when Harry was visited briefly by Professor Dumbledore, he found that the headmaster seemed no more inclined to believe him than the other teachers. Dumbledore was, perhaps, more diplomatic in his approach, but it was clear that no one gave Harry’s tale much credence.

Even Harry’s friends dismissed his story out of hand. Hermione looked skeptical but held her tongue with great effort.

Ron was more forthright about his opinion. “Are you mental? Scabbers was not an animagus. I think I would know if my own rat was really a man! It’s clear he confunded you, Mark. It’s just a shame that you drove away the Dementors. It’s not your fault because you weren’t in your right head. But, it’s too bad he got away again.”

“He’s innocent, Ron!” insisted Harry.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Yeah. That’s why he tried to kill me in my bed, when he snuck into Gryffindor Tower looking for Harry Potter.”

“He wasn’t looking for Potter. He was looking for Scabbers!”

Ron shook his head in disbelief and refused to discuss it further.

*

The next day, Harry found that the other students fell silent as he walked by. Conversations were shushed abruptly when he entered a room. It reminded him of his second year when many had considered that he might be the Heir of Slytherin. Now, everyone was talking about how Mark Twist had helped Sirius Black escape from Dementors.

At lunch, Harry sat quietly and Ron and Hermione, on either side of him, said little as well. When Harry left the Great Hall, Harry 2 and Draco Malfoy followed him into the corridor. “Twist!” called out Draco.

Harry turned slowly to face the boys. “We heard that you let Sirius Black go,” said Draco.

“He was innocent,” said Harry.

Draco ignored this. “I can’t believe that you let him escape.”

A few students started to gather around the boys to listen, forming a semi-circle. Harry saw Ron and Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. Harry stood straighter and lifted his chin. “I have explained. Sirius Black is innocent.”

“You know that Sirius Black has been trying to kill me and you let him go,” said Harry 2. “I hear that you speak parseltongue. And now, you help one of You-Know-Who’s supporters go free. Are you a Dark Wizard, Twist?”

The watching crowd muttered and shifted uneasily.

Harry was silent for a moment and then spoke quietly. “You know I am not a Dark Wizard. You are trying to turn people against me. For what reason? Is it just because I am muggleborn?”

Harry 2 laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know what you mean. You are the one who let that Death-Eater go. Do you want him to kill me? Is it because I’m Harry Potter?”

Harry stared straight into Harry 2’s eyes and said softly, “You are not Harry Potter.”