Ch 7: Stop and Think
As Harry watched from beneath his invisibility cloak, within Hagrid's pumpkin patch, Ronald Weasley bowed to Buckbeak, and Buckbeak knelt back.
From the window of Hagrid's cabin came a monotonous voice. "It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, that the Hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall be executed on the sixth of June at sundown.
Ron tugged at the knot trying Buckbeak to the fence.
"Ron," Harry hissed.
"Harry?"
"Shhh. Out of the way." Except Ron had already got Buckbeak to let him close. "Damn it. Ron, here." The shears and his hand appeared out of the invisibility cloak. "Cut it with this," he whispered. "It'll look like Buckbeak did it."
Surprised but not foolish, Ron snatched the shears and frantically worked them against the rope, sawing almost.
"Don't touch the rope with your hands," whispered Harry. They'd looked into it, and while wizards didn't use fingerprints, they could achieve much the same effect. Which was why he was wearing a thin cotton glove on his off-hand. He reached over and pulled the rope taut, gulping slightly when Buckbeak looked at his suddenly visible hand with fierce golden eyes.
From Hagrid's window, Harry heard, "...sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the committee's appointed executioner, Walden Mcnair.
The rope cut through, and Ron whispered, "Buckbeak, shoo, shoo, get out of here."
Harry pushed Ron aside and hit Buckbeak with a stinging hex. Buckbeak shrieked and rose into the air, wings flapping. The voices in the cabin cut out, and Harry hit Buckbeak with another Stinging Hex, driving the hippogriff out over the forest and out of sight.
Ron bolted out of the pumpkin patch, for the trees, dropping the shears in his haste, and Harry doubled back, looking to see where he'd dropped it.
The door creaked, and Harry slipped to the other side of a massive pumpkin near the edge of the patch.
The door to Hagrid's cabin opened fully, and Harry froze.
He could not see them, but he heard them.
"Where is it?" said the reedy voice of the Committee member. "Where is the beast?"
Steps came into the pumpkin patch. There was a swishing noise, and the thud of an axe. The executioner seemed to have swung it into a fence in anger. And then came howling, and he heard Hagrid's words through his sobs.
"Gone! Gone! Bless his little beak, he's gone! Musta pulled himself free! Beaky, you clever boy!"
Harry scanned the skies, hoping very much that Buckbeak would take a good long flight and not come back any time soon. He thought of creeping away, but decided he was better off staying still, trying not to breathe, and trusting in his invisibility cloak.
"Someone untied him!" the executioner snarled. "We should search the grounds, the forest—"
Dumbledore said, "You might take a closer look at where he was tied, dear man. The rope appears to have been bitten through by a large beaked animal. Hippogriffs can be quite perceptive of people's intentions. Perhaps it read the mood and took off. I wish you luck in finding a flying beast at night in the Forbidden Forest. Search the skies if you will... Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea. Or a large brandy."
Peering round the pumpkin, Harry caught a glimmer of the shears in the dimming light. The shears were behind Dumbledore. Behind all of them. But one might turn and see them at any moment.
"Accio shears," he whispered and the shears winged to him through the dusk. He caught them quietly with Seeker reflexes.
"What was that?" said the Committee Member.
"I'm afraid that was me," said Dumbledore, "I'm finding that, in my old age, brussels sprouts do not like me half so well as I like them. The brandy settles my innards, you see."
The Committee Member mumbled about cabbage, and Hagrid led the lot of them back into his cabin, the door closing with a thwack.
When they'd been in the house a moment, Harry left the pumpkin patch, stepping from stone to stone so the sound of twigs cracking couldn't betray him. He crept back to where he'd left Hermione.
Ron was with her, and they were looking at each other awkwardly.
Hermione whispered, "So you came to free Buckbeak?"
Ron said, "I came here for Hagrid. But when I saw my chance... But you two came to do it, huh?"
Harry coughed and dropped his invisibility cloak.
Ron said, "Harry, I accidentally dropped those shears when I ran away."
"I know," said Harry, waving them. With his hand, he untransfigured them, revealing two butter knives filched from the Great Hall. Hermione dropped them in her bag.
There was enough light left for Harry and Hermione to make out each others' faces. Harry inclined his head slightly toward Ron and raised an eyebrow. Hermione shrugged minimally.
They'd intended to not be seen, and to use the Time Turner to set themselves up with an alibi by being in the common room while they were freeing Buckbeak. Now they'd been seen, and seen by Ron, and a few months ago there wouldn't have been any question of not including Ron, but that was a few months ago.
A loud bray of laughter floated up from Hagrid's cabin, and without any discussion they went a few steps into the trees, down the side of the hill.
Hermione said, "That was good of you, comforting Hagrid."
Ron shrugged awkwardly. "He told me what you two did. Researching for the case and all. I sort of abandoned that a little way in."
They all thought of why Ron had abandoned that.
Ron looked shamefaced at the ground and muttered, "Sorry."
"What was that?" said Hermione.
Harry had spent a lot of time thinking about Ron, and he thought he knew how this would go. Ron would apologize. Not well, but he'd do it. They'd guardedly accept, Ron would explain why he was such a git. His reasons would be wrong-headed, based on insecurities and misconceptions, but they'd end up apologizing over it more than he'd apologized.
It would be long and loud and, possibly, teary.
Harry said, "We don't have time for this. Ron, was there anyone else in the Hagrid's cabin with you?"
"Hmm? No. Why?"
"The Marauders Map has a mishap, probably. Sometimes it shows Peter Pettigrew."
Ron said, "All I found in Hagrid's cabin was Scabbers."
"You're joking," said Harry.
"No, it was him. When I was hiding from the Minister and the others he got away from me again, but I found him."
Hermione gave Ron a triumphant look, and Harry too. She said, "See, Crookshanks didn't eat him. I knew he didn't. He's a sweet cat."
Harry left that alone, and to his surprise, Ron said only, "He wasn't very sweet cat to Scabbers, so you can see why I suspected him. But I probably shouldn't have asked you to get rid of Crookshanks. And hey, can the map see animals?"
Harry said, "It sees Mrs. Norris, but I haven't noticed other animals on it. I've never seen Scabbers on it." He was about to ask Hermione if she still saw Pettigrew on the map when he heard branches cracking.
The sound grew closer, a large creature approaching. They stared into the trees, and Harry wished dusk wasn't so prompt.
A grey head, a large beak, the front legs of an eagle, and the hind legs of horse. Harry let out a relieved breath, then tensed.
Hermione said, "If Buckbeak goes back to Hagrid's now... We have to keep him here until Fudge and the others return to the castle."
Harry approached Buckbeak, hoping that the beast didn't recognize him as the cause of the Stinging Hexes. He stared straight up into the hippogriffs orange eyes, careful not to blink, and bowed. Buckbeak slid to his scaly knees and then stood up again. Harry grabbed the ragged end of the rope hanging from Buckbeak's neck.
He glanced in the direction of Hagrid's Cabin, which, though out of sight, was not far away. Going deeper into the Forbidden Forest was a very bad idea, but they could go along its edge further from Hagrid's cabin.
They walked quietly in the half light, unwilling to attract attention, but eventually they had gone far enough that Hermione felt secure enough to use Lumos to look at the map. Hermione said, "According to the map, Pettigrew's not far from the Whomping Willow, and Fudge, Dumbledore and the other two are going back to the castle."
Harry said, "We can't just take him back to Hagrid. They might come looking again tomorrow, and even if Hagrid was willing to hide Buckbeak, you know as well as me he's rubbish at keeping a secret."
Ron said, "So what else are we going to do? We can't stay out here with him, and if we tie him to a tree who knows what might eat him. Hermione, couldn't you magic Buckbeak somehow?"
"Sure, Ronald, I'll figure out right now how to cast Animal Compulsion spells. I'll derive it from first principles. I mean, if it's magic we need, I'll be the one to cast it, won't I? It's not as if you have a wand too."
"I just meant that you know the most."
"Well if you didn't insist on regarding studiousness as feminine and femininity as bad, and then turn right back around and suggest studying makes me not a proper girl and-"
Harry said, "Later, I said. We'll have this all out later. When we're not leading a fugitive hippogriff through the Forbidden Forest at night. Who knows what's out here."
As if in answer, another form moved through the darkness. Harry squinted. Night wasn't fully on, but it was near. The moon was full but blocked by a wisp of cloud. Hermione brightened her Lumos, and made it shine forward, almost like the beam of a torch.
A centaur approached, and one he'd met before. And not a friendly one.
"Bane?" said Harry.
The centaur looked puzzled. "How did you come to here so quickly?"
"Err, well, you know. We walked."
Bane shook off his puzzlement. "If I'm to shelter the hippogriff, I should know its name."
Shelter the hippogriff? "This is Buckbeak."
Bane met Buckbeak's gaze. The hippogriff looked at him at him curiously, and then bowed first, Bane's bow coming a moment after. Bane took a knife from... somewhere, trotted up to Buckbeak, and cut off the rope.
Bane said, "Jupiter wavers this night."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, having no idea what to make of that. It was hardly dark enough yet to see it.
Ron said, "It should set right around when Mars rises."
Bane said, "Mars will as it will. Harry Potter, if Jupiter should resolves before Neptune rises, Neptune will brighten."
"Err, well, thanks. You'll take Buckbeak?"
Bane said, "With this, Harry Potter, I owe you nothing." The centaur disappeared into the forest, Buckbeak bounding happily behind him, leaving a confused trio in their wake.
"That was lucky," said Ron.
"Why would he owe me anything?" said Harry. "And what did he mean about Jupiter?"
Ron shrugged, "He thinks something important will happen tonight, and it could go either way. If it's resolves before about midnight, it will be good, but if it's resolved after midnight, it will be bad."
Ron saw how they were looking after him and said, "What? Unlike you two, I did a full year of Divination. And honestly Harry, no offense mate, but it was a lot easier to focus without you there distracting me."
"Me distracting you!" said Harry.
"You were always looking at me waiting for a joke. Good King Harry, demanding a performance from his jester, Ron. You never really liked me. You just kept me around to goof off with, like a talking pet."
Harry stared, startled both by how bitter Ron sounded and by how completely wrong he was. "Ron, you were the second real friend I made in my life, after Hagrid, and I don't exactly get along with my relatives. What does that tell you? But we'll talk later. Right now, we have a castle to sneak into."
Hermione said, "We're near the Whomping Willow. Near Pettigrew."
Harry amended what he'd said. "We'll sneak into the castle after we investigate a mishap in the map."
They came out of the forest, onto the grounds themselves, being careful to stay well out of reach of the Willow. Hermione dimmed her lighting charm, and shielded it from view of the castle with her own body.
They followed her as she paced around in a spiral. "Should be right here," she said, yet there was no one there.
"Hominum Revelio," said Harry, and shrugged when he got the result. "Just us three," he said. "The map's mishapping, like Fred and George said."
"I found Scabbers!" said Ron, holding up the rat, clenched firmly in one hand.
Hermione grabbed Harry and roughly pulled him back to stand by her, to look at the map. She pointed, and Harry looked from the map, to Ron, and back.
On the map, the dots that were Peter Pettigrew and Ronald B. Weasley were on top of each other, their names nearly overlapping.
Hermione found her voice first. "I'm glad you found him. Let's go back to the castle."
"Hermione..." said Harry, an edge to his voice.
"Play it cool," she whispered. Then louder, "Come on Ron, I'm glad you found Scabbers. Make sure you don't lose him again. Let's go." She took another look at the map and she froze. By the light of her own spell, he saw the blood run from her face.
"Harry," she said, "Put your cloak on."
Harry reached for it, saying, "Hermione, what is it?"
A massive black dog burst past them, clipping Harry hard enough that he fell. Its vast mouth fastened on Ron leg, and the dog was running, dragging Ron as if Ron was no more than a shrieking chew toy.
Ron held onto Scabbers in a death grip, screaming, and the dog ran into the reach of the Whomping Willow, but when Harry chased after them, it was Harry it swung at, a branch striking his chest and throwing him back.
Harry came back to his feet in time to see Ron and the dog disappearing into the gap between the tree's roots. He didn't think, but simply cast, aiming for the trunk. "Stupefy, Stupefy Stupefy Stupefy," heedless of the flashes of light created, only distantly conscious of Hermione beside him casting Petrifying Charms at the tree.
When a spell hit a knot on the trunk, the tree froze, and Harry dashed forward, heedless of Hermione's yells to stop, and he hit the ground when he reached the trunk, wriggling between the gaps in the roots that the dog had dragged Ron through, coming out into a low passage he couldn't stand properly in.
He cast the Lighting Charm, and, deeply crouched, ran as fast as he could. He heard Hermione's cries to wait, and yelled back, "Get help!" as he pounded on.
So they'd lose points for being out after curfew and wouldn't have a Buckbeak alibi. So what? A massive dog had captured Ron. He didn't have any theory as to why beyond weird magical rabies, but he didn't need a theory to respond.
His breaths grew sharp and painful, but he pushed through the stitch growing in his side, habituated to it by long Quidditch practices and duels with Lupin, and the tunnel rose, then twisted, and he burst through a small opening into a 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.
More importantly, he didn't see the dog.
Moved to caution by the change in circumstance, he crept up the hall, eyeing the ceiling when it creaked, moving slowly up the crumbling staircase, wand at the ready.
It was only a dog. One good spell, and it'd be out. But it was fast, and it wouldn't do to be taken by surprise like before.
A door at the top of the landing was partway open, and dim light came out of it.
"Nox," whispered Harry, and the light at the end of his wand went out. He kicked the door, open, Stunning Spell at the ready, and saw Ron sitting leaned against a magnificent four-poster bed, clutching his bloodied leg.
Harry nearly dashed to him, but thought better of it. "Where's the dog?"
"Not a dog," Ron moaned, teeth gritted.
Harry was jerked forward, tugged through the air, hitting the dusty hangings of the bed, landing halfway on the mattress. He came to his feet, coughing against the cloud of dust that had entered his lungs, and the door closed, revealing a man.
The man had filthy, matted hair that hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of 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.
Sirius Black, holding Ron's wand.
Harry said, "You don't look good, you should see a Stupefy, Expelliarmus, Stupefy, Digitus-Wibbly, Stu-"
Every spell was stopped by simple, precise movements of Ron's wand in Black's hand, and then Harry was silenced, his mouth working, but no sound coming out.
Black's voice was a croak, "Not bad," he said, grin wide, seeming genuinely pleased.
Harry tried to cast Finite Incantatem, but with no voice, it didn't work. He'd imagined this meeting a thousand time, but even after Lupin had shown him how very far he was from ready to face an adult wizard, he'd never imagined the fight going like this. Him rendered helpless in an instant.
"But I'd like you to speak," Black said, his own voice sounding as if he had lost the habit of using it. "Expelliarmus."
Harry's wand flew from his hand and Black snatched it from the air with only two fingers, most of his off-hand occupied with holding a motionless Scabbers.
And that was odd. Very odd. Confusing thoughts ran through his head, but he paid them no attention. Sirius Black was before him, and Harry's focus was on Black slipping Harry's wand in his pocket.
With moans and hisses, Ron pushed himself to his feet, fists clenched—and he collapsed back onto the bed when Black hit him with a silent Jelly-Legs Jinx.
Black's eyes bored back into Harry. "I thought you'd come and help your friend. Your father would've done the same for me. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful... it will make everything much easier..."
Harry's vision turned red, and he desperately wanted to charge forward and lay into Black with his fists, but he heard Hermione in the back of his mind asking him whether he wanted to win or emote.
He wanted to win, and he'd told Hermione to get help. If he could keep Black talking long enough, a Professor would come. Dumbledore, even, if he were lucky.
Harry took a deep breath and tried to sound merely curious when he said, "So you and my dad were friends then?"
The door burst open, Hermione crashing through. She and Black looked mutually surprised by the sight of the other, but it was Hermione who reacted first with a shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
Ron's wand shot from Black's hand. Harry darted forward and snatched it from the air as Sirius drew Harry's wand.
Harry and Hermione faced him, wands ready, as Harry realized that Hermione had followed him instead of going for help. They'd have to defeat Black themselves.
Black began to laugh. "And the girl makes her entrance. Well done."
Harry raised Ron's wand to strike while Black was distracted, and hesitated when Hermione said, "You're the dog, aren't you? And you've stunned Scabbers, haven't you? That's why he's not moving."
"Right on both!"
Ron pulled himself to his feet by the bedpost, and spoke between teeth gritted against pain. Ronald Weasley, who Harry had hardly had a civil Hello with in five months, said, "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill me first!"
"There will be only one murder tonight," said Black.
And Harry was yelling at Black. He didn't know what, couldn't hear his own words over the roar in his ears.
But Hermione's voice broke through. "Harry, think! The dog wasn't a dog. Is that rat a rat?"
Harry stopped yelling, breathing heavily, and Black laughed harder. Black said. "You've found a keeper, Harry."
Hermione said, "Show us. If it's true, show us right now." She gulped. "That's why you waited, isn't it? Because you wanted Harry to see."
Black examined the rat in his hand. He pointed Harry's wand at it and a flash of blue-white light erupted from his wand. For a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small grey form twisting — Ron yelled — the rat hit the floor, there was another flash of light, and where Scabbers had been, a man was.
He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry and Hermione. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who'd lost a lot of weight in a short time.
Even as he was transforming, he was waking, pulled from the forced slumber of the Stunning Spell, and he shrieked when he saw Black, eyes darting toward the door.
Ron pointed and gibbered.
Sirius closed the door with his foot and leveled his wand at the man.
"Wait!" said Hermione. "Don't kill him!"
"I've been waiting 12 years to kill him!"
"But you didn't, not right away, because you want more. Don't you?"
Harry said, "Hermione, what is going on?"
"If you just think about it properly yourself-"
Harry yelled, "This is not the time for tutoring through the bloody Socratic method! What's going on?" According to the map, Scabbers was Peter Pettigrew, and now Black had turned Scabbers into a man. But Black had killed Pettigrew. Except he hadn't. Now Black was trying to kill Pettigrew. Scabbers. And when Black had snuck into the Gryffindor dorms, maybe it hadn't been Harry he was looking for. Maybe it had been Scabbers.
Harry said to the man who'd been Scabbers. "Who are you?"
The man turned fearful, beady eyes quivering with hope on him. "Peter Pettigrew."
Harry said to Black, "When you said only one murder, you meant... him?" He pointed to the man. "Pettigrew. Not me?"
Black said, "I would never hurt you."
"You killed my parents!"
"I don't deny it," Black said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."
Harry's head pounded, and he would've attacked if Hermione hadn't said, "Who betrayed the Potters to You-Know-Who?"
"He did," said Black and Pettigrew together, pointing at each other.
The wooden door shattered like a thin glass window. In a dazzle of spells, Severus Snape stepped through. Harry's wand was torn from Black's grasp, before anyone could react. Snape's face was stretched in a cruel smile as he thrust his wand at Black, a spell forming so powerful Harry thought he could feel the magic building, and Snape froze, so suddenly and completely that for a moment Harry thought Hermione had petrified their Potions Professor.
"Peter Pettigrew?" said Severus Snape.
Pettigrew said, "Severus, kill him."
Black growled. "Snivellus. What the hell are you doing here?"
Snape's eyes were wild, and he took a firmer grip on his wand. "I'm going to enjoy this too much," he said.
Hermione said, "Pettigrew's a rat animagus. He's spent the last 12 years pretending to be the Weasley family pet rat."
Snape said to Pettigrew. "I always knew you were pathetic, but that's taking it far."
"I, I was frightened. I knew he would get out. I knew he would come for me."
Hermione said, "Who was the Potter's Secret Keeper?"
"I was, at first," said Black.
"See," said Pettigrew. "Of course he was. Dumbledore knew. He cast the Fidelius Charm himself. We can trust Dumbledore."
Black said, "After Dumbledore left, Lily transferred the secret to you. My damn idea. Mine. I convinced them. I thought I was so clever.
"Lying!" cried Pettigrew. "Black was the Secret Keeper, not me, never me."
For Harry, the assumptions of a year were thrown on end. The hours he'd spent daydreaming of the confrontation suddenly nonsensical, the mental reflexes born of imagination misfiring. He felt dizzy. He felt as if he might throw up, and he could hardly follow what the others were saying, never mind examine what they meant.
Hermione said, "So you see, Professor Snape, it looks as if Black may be innocent and didn't kill anyone at all."
"Not for long," Black growled. "I came here to kill Peter. I'm going to kill Peter."
"Excellent idea," said Snape. He conjured a knife and tossed it to Black, who caught it by the hilt. "Go ahead, mutt, kill him."
Pettigrew whimpered.
Hermione said, "But if Black's innocent and he kills Pettigrew, he won't be able to prove it, and even if he did, it wouldn't matter, because he wouldn't be innocent anymore."
Snape's black eyes glittered, his lips pressed into the small half-smirk Harry was used to.
And not wanting what Snape wanted was a reflex ingrained deeply into Harry Potter. Practically instinct, after three years of being in Snape's class. He moved in front of Pettigrew and said, "He's coming back to the castle with us. Both of them are."
Pettigrew pawed at his legs. "Yes, brave Harry, good Harry, so much like your parents."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"
Harry felt sure Black would've killed Pettigrew right then if he hadn't been in the way.
Snape's smirk tightened, as if were enjoying a play.
Harry said, "I don't even know if you're really innocent or if he really was the Secret Keeper." The explanations and revelations were still burbling through his head, refusing to form a concrete picture. And he'd had a concrete picture not 15 minutes ago, and that had proven to be wrong. "If you're innocent, you deserve to not be hunted by the Ministry."
Black barked a laugh. "What I deserve? It's all my fault. My idea."
Hermione spoke gently, as if to a child. "You're Harry's godfather. The only one he has. I'm sure he'd like to get to know you."
Black looked from Pettigrew to Harry.
Harry said, "You could tell me about my parents. No one's told me much."
Black deflated, hand trembling a moment before he dropped the knife.
"How touching," said Snape. "But lethal force is permitted against you, Black. I'd get away with killing you. In fact, even now, I'd get a medal for it." Snape's look was feral, and Harry envisioned Snape killing Black right in front of him.
Snape twirled his wand, "But for delivering you to the castle, along with a man thought dead, I will receive a greater reward. Incarcerous."
Tight cords wrapped around both Pettigrew and Black. With another wave of Snape's wand and a muttered incantation, three stretchers appeared, and Ron, and a protesting Black and Pettigrew were levitated onto them, the straps buckling them in.
Pettigrew said, "Severus, we're on the same side. You followed him. I know you did. You were a Death Eater. To turn me in is to betray the Dark Lord. But if you free, me, I'll, I'll seek him out. I'll bring him back. I can do it."
Harry's eyes widened. His stomach dropped. It made far too much sense, yet no sense at all. On the one hand, he couldn't believe Dumbledore would have a servant of Voldemort for a Professor. On the other hand, of course Snape was a Death Eater. He would kill them, and free Pettigrew, and Pettigrew would bring Voldemort back.
Snape's voice was silky. "Have you not heard that I was the Headmaster's spy on the Dark Lord? Perhaps not. Rats hear little and read less. But even if it weren't true, it wouldn't matter. You'll not receive any help from the Dark Lord's former servants. The opposite, in fact. It was on your information that he went to his doom. That's why you've been hiding all these years."
"I'll do anything for you. I'll help you. I'm a very powerful-"
Snape silenced Pettigrew with a wave of his wand, then stunned him. Any doubt Harry'd had that Pettigrew had been the real betrayer had vanished. Doubts he had about Snape, however, were as strong as ever.
From his stretcher, Black said, "Let me off of here, Snivellus."
Snape silenced him as well. He seemed almost cheery. Harry had never seen Snape cheery before. "Potter, Granger, come." Snape went down the stairs, the stretchers floating ahead of him, Harry and Hermione following. They came to a boarded up door that Snape shattered with a spell, and they stepped into the night.
Harry realized the house they'd been in was the Shrieking Shack. He spared a thought for how odd it was that they hadn't noticed any ghosts at all, but his mind turned to more important matters.
He said to Snape, "Er, can I have my wand?"
Snape arched an eyebrow and gave Harry his wand. In turn, Harry jogged up to Ron's stretcher and gave Ron his own wand back. Rather than casting Lumos, he let his eyes adjust to the night, thankful there was a path to follow to Hogwarts, and turned his wand on Pettigrew in case he woke and tried to turn back into a rat.
Snape was a git, and he trusted him less than ever, but it was good thing he'd shown up.
From behind him, Snape said, "Potter, Granger, Weasley, we will discuss later what you were doing out after curfew."
Harry decided that they had started talking with Ron as they strolled the grounds, and they'd been so wrapped up with their conversation that they hardly noticed the time pass. Now he just had to communicate that cover story to the others.
Black, he saw, though silenced, was still yelling, mouth moving rapidly. Harry patted Black's shoulder, and the man stopped yelling.
The night was quickly growing chill, and Harry wrapped his arms about himself, wishing he was dressed warmer. He drifted toward Hermione and put an arm around her for warmth, grateful that she was left handed, which meant they could side hug or hold hands and still have their wand hands free. Like they were perfectly matched.
Not that it meant anything. He was just a silly 13-year-old. And betrayer or not, Sirius Black was clearly at least half mad, and his parents had died, anyway. He could hear it again. His father's shout-
"Dementors!" yelled Harry.
"They're coming," said Snape. "The dementors have a kiss-on-sight order for you, Black. And I can't be expected to fight Ministry appointed guardians going about their lawful business."
Harry's blood ran cold. Snape was going to let them kill Black. Perhaps that had been his plan from the moment he'd put him on a stretcher. Harry would have to save Black himself. But it was hard, with his mother's voice in his ears, to think any happy thoughts.
From his stretcher, Ron managed a brilliant Lumos, revealing dozens and dozens of black shapes. Black was panicking, his mouth wide in a soundless scream.
Snape laughed. Something Harry had never seen him do before. "Expecto Patronum!" Snape said, and a silver doe burst from his wand, galloping at the dementors, driving them back.
With Snape's Patronus out, Harry found his happy thought. She was standing right next to him, after all. "Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, and his own brilliant stag leapt out to join Snape's doe.
"Petrificus Totalus!" shouted Hermione, and Harry looked where she aimed just in time to see her spell fly wide amid the dark and dementors, as Pettigrew, the Stunning Spell broken by the dementors' presence as surely as if by a bucket of cold water, leapt off the stretcher, scampering immediately into the overhanging forest.
Harry cursed and tore after him, knowing that if he was going to catch a rat at night in the Forbidden Forest, he didn't have a moment to lose. Pettigrew dashed around the trunk of a tree with the shape of an hourglass burned into it, and Harry stopped when he came around it, listening, hoping to hear the rustling of the rat moving.
It was hard to hear anything with Hermione trampling over the ground behind him.
"Shhh!" he said.
She threw a chain over his neck, her chest pressed against his back, and turned an hourglass once.
:::
There's a scene in Deathly Hallows (when Obliviating Xenophillus) where Hermione casts a spell while holding Harry's left hand, and they're apparently facing the same direction. So, Hermione must be casting the spell with her left hand. So she's left-handed. Or she's ambidextrous. Or it was just a mistake on the author's part. Or I need to work on my reading comprehension.
Two more chapters, I think.
Ron.
If you're enjoying this, please get Monstrosity, by JLL, (L, J L) on amazon. In the books department. It's good.
Ch 8: Time Shenanigans
With its expandable chain around both their necks, Hermione turned the Time Turner.
The world, spun, lights flashed, and the young night brightened.
When the whirling of time had ceased, it was early dusk, they were surrounded by trees, and he didn't see any path. They were within the forest, but Harry suspected they weren't very near where they'd been.
"Displacement," said Hermione, sounding displeased.
Harry said, "How many hours back did you go?"
"Just one." She checked her watch. "An hour and six."
"Then lets hope we're in a part of the forest near Hogsmeade. We have to find the tree with an hourglass burned in."
"Point me Hogsmeade," said Hermione. Her wand spun in her hand, and Hermione set off confidently in the direction it pointed.
Walking beside her, Harry said, "That seems a useful spell. Point me Voldemort's dried up prune of a soul. Point me Pettigrew. Point me lost suitcase of money."
Hermione said, "The location of Hogsmeade is neither secret from us nor unknown to us, Harry. It all has to do with how magic treats information. And I think I burned the hourglass into the tree. Soon, in cycle 2. That's why it was there in cycle 1. But that's alright. When I saw the hourglas, I took a good look. I know about where on the path from Hogsmeade we were, and it's the Birch next to the small flint boulder that doesn't belong, two trees down from the big ash that took a lightning bolt to the base."
She'd noticed that. In the dark. While dementors were attacking. Harry said, "Have I told you lately how amazing you are? Because you are. And don't go telling me it's only books and cleverness, because books and cleverness are amazing and you've got mental adaptability and presence of mind too. Not to mention you're brilliant at friendship and bravery."
Hermione buried a smile, said, "Point me Shrieking Shack," and adjusted their course slightly.
After walking a few minutes with no sign of Hogsmeade, Harry grew concerned. They hadn't been far outside the town when the dementors attacked. Harry said, "I don't remember being displaced this far before."
Hermione said, "The 'Forbidden Forest around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts,' is a much bigger location than just 'Hogwarts.' A lot more room for displacement." She increased her pace, breath coming out in puffs of mist.
The air grew cold, frost formed on leaves, and Harry heard the screams of his mother.
Harry gripped Hermione, shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" and as the silver stag raced back in the direction from which they'd come, Harry and Hermione broke into a run, still heading for Hogsmeade.
Through trees, over a slope, the cold and depression growing all the while, an awareness of dementors closing in. What sort of luck was this to run into them twice in one night?
Beneath a tree, Harry saw two centaurs. Near each other, yet in their stances, the set of their shoulders, Harry saw little friendliness. More like a confrontation. The centaurs looked up, hearing the humans running, and Harry shouted, "Run!"
One of centaurs raised a staff, and both trotted forward. And stopped as dementors came into view.
From behind, from ahead, from beside, a wide but tightening circle of soul sucking monsters in black cloaks.
Surrounded. No more running. He needed to cast a Patronus powerful enough to drive off dozens of dementors. Otherwise, he and Hermione might both be kissed. And he could already hear his mother's pleas.
He gripped Hermione's hand. Juvenile kisses and fireside chats. Hours spent studying till his head hurt, and satisfaction that he'd done so. The day he'd first cast his Patronus. They way she resisted rolling her eyes at him. The way, when he'd told her his deep, dark secret, that the hat had considered putting him in Slytherin, she hadn't thought it was dark at all.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Out of his wand burst the stag, more dazzling than ever before, so bright he could hardly look at it. It charged, and dementors fled before it. Beside him, Hermione was casting the spell, producing not a true Patronus, but a silver shield that was at least much better than nothing.
From the other sides, dementors closed in. The centaurs were shouting, and one swung its staff into a dementor.
It moved with the blow, and when the staff's curving path swung past, it moved in for the kiss.
"Prongs!" Harry yelled.
His Patronus leapt and rammed into the dementor, antlers first, glowing brighter and brighter. He squinted and shaded his eyes.
Like a strong wind dispersing black smoke, Prongs drove all the dementors back. They retreated so far the feel of them left entirely, and he hoped they'd fled all the way back to wherever they were based.
The silver stag trotted a wide circle around them, and Harry sank to one knee as he let the Patronus fade. It had felt in the moment like the Patronus was an independent creature doing all that, but it had been him, and he was sweating and breathing hard, feeling the blood course through his veins.
Hermione said, "Here. I have chocolate." She took a massive, two pound bar of Honeydukes chocolate from her bag, pulled back the wrapping, and broke off two pieces, one for her and one for him.
Taking it, Harry gasped out, "Why do you have that?"
"I always carry chocolate with me, what with dementors being stationed at the school." Lighting Lumos, she offered the bar to the centaurs, and Harry recognized them. Firenze and Bane, both very pale, especially Bane, who seemed weak on his legs, propping himself up with his staff.
Firenze took the bar and broke off two pieces. He took one for himself, placed it in his mouth, and offered the other to Bane, who ignored him.
"It will help," said Firenze.
"Human food," said Bane.
"A remedy against dementors," said Firenze, and again proffered a piece to Bane.
Reluctantly, Bane took it and chewed. He made a face and said, "Far too sweet." But color returned to his cheeks and he ceased leaning upon his staff.
It clicked in Harry's head.
Harry said, "Err, would you like a hippogriff? He's a nice hippogriff, but the Ministry wants to execute him, for reasons, but maybe you could give him a good home."
"And why do they want to slay this beast?" said Firenze.
"Because they're wankers," said Harry.
"Harry!" said Hermione.
Harry said, "We don't have much time. And it's true."
Hermione said, "There's a very spoiled, cruel boy named Draco Malfoy who's taking the Care of Magical Creatures class this year, and during our first lesson-"
"Bane will do it," said Firenze.
"I shall not."
Firenze said, "It would discharge your debt to him."
Bane said, "He led the dementors to us."
"Not intentionally. But intentionally, he saved your life."
Bane grimaced. He glared at Harry and glared at Firenze and said, "I will shelter this hippogriff. Where shall I find it?"
Harry said, "In the Forest, a little ways behind the Whomping Willow."
Hermione checked her watch and said, "The sooner the better."
Bane frowned at them again, and galloped off, seeming already recovered from his close encounter.
Hermione said, "The dementors won't catch him again, will they?"
Firenze said, "We can sense them coming, and we are faster than they. In this case, we were so engrossed in our... conversation that we did not notice them until too late. It will not happen again." Firenze looked at the sky. "Jupiter-"
"Wavers this night," said Harry. "Yes, we know. Sorry, but we really have to go. Hermione."
"Point me Shrieking Shack," she said, and they tore off in the direction the wand pointed, both running, worried about time.
After a little, Hermione stopped running, red-faced. Harry could've run a lot longer, normally, but after how he'd exhausted himself with the dementors, he was glad when she slowed to a walk.
"Sorry," she gasped. "I should've gone back two hours." She checked her watch and said, "We should be fine though."
After two minutes of walking, she started running again, and they'd only gone a few steps when she tripped over a tree root and landed hard, instinctively throwing her left arm up to keep her wand safe.
"Are you alright?" he said, helping her up. "You've got scratches. Hermione, even with a Lighting Charm, it's too dark for us be running."
"Too dark," said Hermione. "I'm an idiot. Ibis Oculus." She tapped his head with her wand, and his lighting charm was suddenly far, far too bright.
"Nox," he said, putting it out, and the night grew brighter. Not as bright as noon, but near, to early evening. He saw the trees and underbrush clearly. Yet there was no color. All was presented in shades of grey.
Harry said, "Brilliant. How did you find the time to learn extra spells while taking that many classes?"
Hermione said, "Dropping divination helped. Ibis Oculus." She tapped her own head, and they were off, sure-footed, no lighting charms in use, Harry feeling a lot better about their odds of seeing Pettigrew in his rat form.
Through the trees, they glimpsed the path to Hogsmeade and made for it, coming out onto it and facing indecision. Were they past where Pettigrew had escaped, or behind it?
Hermione glanced around and started toward Hogsmeade. Harry was tempted to pull her close and throw the invisibility cloak over them, but they couldn't move quickly with it on. They'd have to depend on darkness and no one being about. After a few minutes, Hermione said, "I think we've gone too far," but she continued in the same direction. After all, if they hadn't gone too far and they turned back...
They were just about to turn back anyway when Harry spotted an old oak that had survived a lightning bolt to its base. He pointed, and Hermione squealed, running forward. Shortly after it was a Scots Birch next to a big black rock. "This should be it," Hermione said. With her wand, she burned the shape of a large hourglass through the bark, and transfigured the revealed wood so it would be reflective.
That way, cycle 1 Hermione would get the message to use the Time Turner.
They went behind the tree, standing a few steps back from it, lying in wait for Pettigrew and their cycle 1 selves. Harry said, "Trying to work out the cause and effect of all this is hurting my head."
"If you'd read about Time Turners, you'd understand it's really quite simple. According to the honorable Doctor Irene Barnstern, High Mugwump of the ICW, 'in linear time, causality is observed, but the universe gives not two figs about it. The objection to paradox is a purely human invention.'"
Hermione checked her watch. "We have some time." She sat on a log and picked up a rock. She transfigured the rock into a thick-sided glass jar with a perforated lid. She unscrewed the lid, nodded in a satisfied way, and cast the Unbreakable Charm on the jar.
"Brilliant again," said Harry.
Hermione said, "We're as well prepared as we can be without help."
"Help," said Harry, and smacked himself on the forehead. "I'm an idiot. Expecto Patronum." The silver stag appeared, pawing spectrally at the ground before it, and Harry said, "Nuntium. Tell Albus Dumbledore that Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Snape are on the road to Hogsmeade, and they're being attacked by dementors."
Prongs snorted and took off into the woods, Harry grateful that sending a Patronus messenger took a lot less energy than using one to drive off dementors.
"Are you sure that was a good idea?"
He shrugged. They waited in silence. Harry gave Hermione his invisibility cloak, and after a few minutes, they heard the murmur of voices, and felt the chill of dementors.
Harry said, "Do you think it's the same dementors as before? As if they worked up their courage to follow us?"
"Must be. There can't be two groups this size based at the school."
Meaning the dementors whose attack had caused them to go back in time had only found them in the first place because after they'd gone back in time they'd led them to their cycle 1 selves.
Harry resolved not to think about it and prepared to cast his Patronus again, if necessary.
Harry heard Snape's clear and firm incantation, followed by cycle 1 Harry shouting it. They glimpsed the silver Patronuses through the trees, a distant part of Harry's mind noting how unfitting it was that Snape's Patronus was a doe, and with the owl-like vision Hermione's spell had granted him, he saw a rat round the trunk of the Scots Pine.
Harry said"Stupefy," at the same moment Hermione said, "Petrificus Totalus," and in a moment of mutually perfect aim that surprised them both, both spells hit. Harry followed it up with, "Accio Pettigrew."
The unconscious rat flew through the air toward him, he caught it, Hermione threw the invisibility cloak over them, and cycle 1 Harry came around the tree.
A moment later, cycle 1 Hermione bumped into him, put the chain of the Time Turner around cycle one Harry's neck, turned the hourglass, and they disappeared.
"Lumos," said Hermione, and they looked at the rat. Definitely Scabbers, one toe missing and all. Harry dropped it in the jar, Hermione screwed the lid on tight, and they ran back onto the road, Harry shouting that they'd caught Pettigrew and had him jarred.
Snape said only, "Potter, if need be, can you cast that Patronus again?"
"I think so." He checked on Black, who was still struggling against his strapping, and therefore hadn't been killed or kissed. He wondered if Snape hadn't been serious about his threat to let the dementors at him. Or if he had been, and it was Harry's Patronus that had saved Black.
"It's alright," said Harry to Black. "We should be at the castle soon."
Flame flashed behind them, disappeared, and in a second flash of flame right among them, Albus Dumbledore appeared. His eyes stopped on Sirius Black, and he said, "Well done. Severus. When we get back to the castle, fetch veritaserum. I have questions for him before he is turned over to the Ministry.
Snape said, "About that. As much as it pains me to admit, the situation may be more complicated than we thought."
Hermione held up the jar. "Professor Dumbledore. This is Peter Pettigrew. He's a rat animagus. According to Black, they switched Secret Keepers without your knowing."
Dumbledore looked from the rat to Black and back to the rat. He paled, and he looked very old and very tired.
#
#
It happened in the hospital wing, and Harry got to see almost all of it. Fudge, who'd only recently left, was called back, but with several Aurors in tow, including a terrifying man with a peg leg and an artificial eye with a life of its own.
Fudge looked with some astonishment at Pettigrew, who had been returned to human form and bound by spells that would prevent him from transforming.
First, in a flat, unemotional voice, Snape recounted his version of events. Apparently he'd seen the flash of spells striking the Whomping Willow and had gone to investigate. Finding the Willow still frozen, he'd gone up the secret passage beneath its roots. His version of the Shrieking Shack and the dementor attack was, Harry had to admit, factual, if slanted. To hear Snape tell it, he'd given Black a knife purely to judge his intentions, confident in his ability to subdue Black if necessary.
Black assented readily to veritaserum, and gave a much more detailed version of what he'd told them in the Shrieking Shack, affirming that he hadn't been the Secret Keeper for even a full day before they'd transferred the Secret to Pettigrew, and he'd never killed anyone except, 'Some Death Eaters in the war, and it was self-defence or near enough.'
Apparently, until he'd seen Scabbers on Ron's shoulder in the Daily Prophet, he'd thought Pettigrew, never the most competent of fighters, had accidentally blown himself up.
When Black, in recounting his actions since his escape from Azkaban, spoke of buying Harry a Firebolt for Christmas, Hermione gave Ron and Harry very satisfied looks.
Pettigrew, once revived, refused veritaserum. An Auror was sent to fetch someone important, and returned with an old woman in a satin red night robe, slippers, and hair curlers. Between her, Dumbledore and Fudge, they had the legal authority to compel Pettigrew to take veritaserum.
Under its influence, he confirmed all that Black had said, and added on that he'd been a spy for nearly a year before that fateful Halloween night when Voldemort had vanished.
The peg-legged Auror smiled evilly, Black growled, and Fudge asked Snape if it wasn't possible that the dementors had helped catch Pettigrew in some way.
Dumbledore turned to Black and with clear frustration said, "Sirius, you never had a proper trial, and that may in part be my fault, but you had a hearing. Why did you do nothing at it but laugh maniacally?"
Harry had never imagined that Albus Dumbledore might vent or dodge responsibility, but he also thought it was a damn good question.
Black muttered that he'd been in shock.
"If you had said Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper, I wouldn't have believed you, but I would've looked into it."
Fudge clapped Dumbledore on the shoulder. "It doesn't reflect well on anyone, I know. Fortunately, I wasn't involved. But chin up, old chap. Having Lord Black cleared of charges will buck up your faction in the Wizengamot, assuming he's still one of yours."
If looks could kill, Fudge would've died, but Fudge didn't even notice.
Dumbledore said the real concern was that an innocent had spent 12 years in Azkaban, and Fudge wondered aloud how the papers would 'handle that aspect.'
Upon being asked, Harry gave his version of events, saying nothing of hippogriffs, Time Turners, maps or invisibility cloaks. They'd been out after curfew because they'd gotten to talking and had been so caught up in it they hadn't even noticed the sun setting.
When pressed on that, Hermione took over, and admitted that she, Harry and Ron had been 'having some drama,' and they'd been 'working it out,' and without quite saying so, implied that there'd been tears, shouting, and even hexing involved.
No one said anything of Buckbeak. Harry expected that an escaped hippogriff was the last thing on Fudge's mind.
Ron, on his hospital bed, was asked if he wanted to press charges over Black mangling his leg, and Ron, still in shock over his rat having been a wizard, said no.
According to the Minister, Snape would get an Order of Merlin First Class, and Harry, Hermione and Ron would all get orders of Merlin Second Class, which, though there was no attached stipend, did carry a modest cash prize.
Harry, who did not think that the distribution of awards made very much sense, asked if Sirius Black shouldn't get an award for breaking out of Azakaban for the express purpose of catching an Death Eater who'd escaped justice.
Fudge said he'd think about it.
Harry and the others were told to go to bed. Harry nodded and took a step toward Black, who was overwhelmed by the news that he'd likely be exonerated at the end of an abbreviated legal process, and attempted a smile as Harry approached.
Harry noted that, in addition to a hair cut and a lot of square meals, Black needed his teeth cleaned.
Harry said, "Er, thanks for the Firebolt."
"Only right, after all the Christmases I missed." He hesitated, then said, "I guess you know already, but I'm your godfather."
"I knew."
"Well... your parents appointed me you guardian," said Black, stiffly. "If anything happened to them..."
Harry waited. Did Black mean what he thought he meant?
"I'll understand of course if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle, but... well... think about it. Once my name's cleared. If you want a... different home..."
Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.
"What—live with you? Leave the Dursleys?"
"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Black quickly. "I understand. I just thought I'd-"
If there hadn't been so many others there, including Snape, Minister Fudge, and the important woman in a night robe and hair curlers, Harry would've responded colorfully. As it was, he leaned in and said softly, "The sooner the better. We'll talk more later, but the sooner the better."
Harry let himself be sent to bed, smiling all the while.
:::
All is well?
Canonically, the last day of exams during 3rd-year is June 6th. June 6th of 1994 is a Monday. Which means they have a few days of exams, a weekend, and then the final day? Or they took exams right through the weekend? Or J.K. didn't look at a calendar to check? Or she was so enraptured by 06/06 being the day Pettigrew escaped to go find Voldemort that she told the calendar to screw off?
I think she told the calendar to screw off. idk. On June 6th, 1994, the moon was a crescent. However, plotwise, on that day, the moon is full. The moon was full on June 6th of 1993. Is it possible JK was looking at the calendar for 1993? But every source I've seen says Harry started at Hogwarts in the 1991-1992 school year, which means his third year should be 1993-1994, so June of his 3rd year should definitely be 1994.
Ch 9: Epilogue
It was the first time Harry had been able to properly enjoy the closing activities that filled the week between the end of exams and going home. Those activities included, more than anything, a lot of free-time, and in that free-time, the predicted hashing out with Ron took place.
It was not tearful, as he'd feared, but there was sniffling.
Ron said, "Sorry. I've been meaning to say sorry for weeks now. Everyone says I messed up. Hagrid, Fred and George, Ginny, Percy, Dean and Seamus. Lavender. And they're right. I shouldn't have gotten mad about the broom and I shouldn't have said that stuff when you two started dating. I had every right to be upset about you and Harry dropping Divination without telling me, but I guess we weren't really talking then, and I had the right to be angry about Scabbers, but I probably took it a little far, and obviously it's turned out he was alive and a wizard, but I didn't know that."
"A little far?" said Harry.
Hermione nudged him, and he quieted.
Hermione said, "What in particular are you apologizing for? Saying that I was crying on purpose? Saying that I only wanted to be girlfriend to the Boy-Who-Lived? Asking Harry if he couldn't have found anyone prettier?"
"All of it," said Ron.
"Alright," said Hermione, extending a hand.
Ron shook it, smiling broadly.
His smiled faded when Hermione said, "We're not best friends again. Maybe we'll become best friends again, but saying sorry doesn't make me forget five months of you being a complete git."
Ron said, "I haven't bothered you for at least a month. So it's four months of being a git."
"That makes it so much better," said Hermione, but her exasperation sounded very slightly amused, and Harry thought they'd be best friends again by the end of the train ride home. It was lucky for Ron they'd all ended up in another life threatening circumstance together.
Ron said, "I'm just sensitive over you always saying I'm stupid."
"I don't say that. Well, I did when you were screaming at me about Scabbers, but I don't say it normally."
"You suggest it."
"If you'd pay attention to what I say, you'd know I don't say that."
Harry said, "Sorry, Hermione, but you do, kind of. Even to me sometimes, but not as much." He turned to Ron. "But it's only when we deserve it."
Ron said, "Or when I say I don't like reading school books for fun. Who the bloody hell reads school books for fun?"
Hermione said, "I do, Ronald. Many of them are quite fascinating. If you'd just take an interest-"
"See, that's what I'm talking about. I'm not interested, and you can't make me be."
Hermione said, "You always interrupt me when I'm-"
"I don't interrupt you! You interrupt me!"
"You just interrupted me!"
Harry said, "Can we not fight? Let's just agree that no one's perfect, not even Hermione, and, you, Ron, were unusually, notably far from perfect much of this year, and you're sorry about it?"
"Yeah," said Ron. "That. Sorry."
Hermione said, "I'm sorry too. For making you feel stupid and saying you were jealous of Harry. I know I can be condescending sometimes, if you know what that means, and from now on I promise to try harder not to be."
Harry said, "Good. And we'll all be very polite and try not to say hurtful things."
Ron said, "Merlin, Harry, hurtful things? You've been spending too much time with Hermione. You sound like a poofter."
Harry and Hermione shared a glance.
Hermione clasped Ron's hands and said, "Ron, poofter is a very rude word. You should say homosexual, or gay. Whatever the world around us thinks, there's nothing wrong with being gay, and accepting that may be the first step to accepting yourself."
Ron asked what the bloody hell she meant by that, and Hermione refused to explain in anything but vague allusions. As they argued, Harry reflected that all was right with the world.
And as the closing week continued, all did seem right with the world. When Dumbledore handed out points for helping catch a Death Eater who'd been hiding out in the school, Gryffindor was guaranteed the house cup. It turned out that Order of Merlin Second Class included a hundred galleon prize. Ron said he'd get a broom, and Hermione said she'd a get portable library.
The results to the exams came, and Harry felt a rush of pleasure. His first year, his marks had been good. His second, they hadn't taken the exams at all, owing to the Chamber of Secrets, but he suspected that if they had taken them, he wouldn't have done so well as his first year, owing to the Chamber, and also to the fact that study buddy Hermione had been petrified during exam season.
His third year, his marks were even better than his first year. One grade in particular astonished him.
An E in Ancient Runes. An E. An actual E. He'd been praying for an A, expecting a P. He handed the results to Hermione, pointed to the box for Runes, and said, "Do you think it's a misprint?"
"First of all, Harry, these aren't printed, they're written by enchanted quills. And no, I don't think it's an error. You were working very hard and never studied for it with anyone but me, so you never realized that in the first term, most of the students were a little hazy on the differences between Elder Furthark and Old Icelandic B-Side and wouldn't have known Neo-Dwarfic if it bit them on the elbow."
"You mean I didn't have to study that hard?"
"If you hadn't, you'd only have an A, so aren't you glad you did?"
"No," said Harry. "I'm glad I got an E, but I would've rather studied less and gotten an A."
"You don't mean that," said Hermione.
"I do. But in a week, when the studying's a fond memory, I won't mean it anymore." Having said that, he returned to the Daily Prophet, a publication he'd hardly ever read before, but it had everything he wanted to know about the Sirius Black case.
When it came to resolving national embarrassments and getting them quickly out of the news cycle, the Wizengamot was nothing if not swift, and before the week was out, Black was exonerated, and Pettigrew convicted, started on the long, slow and expensive process of being stripped of his animagus abilities before being shipped to Azkaban.
So on the afternoon of the closing feast, Dumbledore in attendance, Black came to Hogwarts. Harry met them in the relative privacy of the Covered Bridge, with birdsong for company, and Black was wearing fine new robes, his hair cut, body and teeth cleaned, and already with noticeably more flesh on his bones. Potions, he explained, and told Harry to call him Sirius as they shook hands.
Dumbledore said it would better to let Harry's legal guardianship stay with the Dursleys at least through the summer, but thought Harry might spend the last few weeks of summer with Sirius. Provided that Sirius acquired a safe, hygienic and well-warded home and completed a rehabilitation program with certified mind healers.
Harry thought he'd rather live in a hut than with a madman than live with the Dursleys. But, talking with Sirius, it wasn't hard to see why he needed quality time with mind healers, which he likely wouldn't get with Harry underfoot, so he resigned himself to spending at least the first month of the summer with the Dursleys.
Practical matters concluded, Dumbledore up and left, leaving them alone, and awkwardness descended.
"So," said Black. How's school?"
"Oh, er, it's good. I like Defence and Charms. Transfiguration, Herbology and Astronomy are okay. Care wasn't as good as it could've been, History is boring and Potions is painful, but I think those are more on the teachers than the subject. Runes was hard but I'm glad I took it."
Black said, "I hear Snivellus, I mean, Snape, teaches Potions. Dumbledore says he's a good man and was a spy against the Death Eaters and told me to apologize, but I say he's Snivellus, and if he was a spy, he spied for his own Snivelly reasons. He gives you trouble? I'll prank him for it."
"Don't," said Harry. "It would just make it worse. He's sarcastic and he gives me detentions, but that's all." It was a little more than that, and he loved the idea of Sirius pranking Snape, but he didn't want Sirius getting in any trouble and maybe not being seen as a fit guardian.
Harry said, "I mean, I talk back to him in class a little. And I did accuse him to other Professors of trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone for Voldemort, and it turned out he was trying to protect it. And my friends and I stole ingredient from him so we could brew polyjuice potion in the bathroom and sneak into the Slytherin dorms, and I think he figured out it was us even if he couldn't prove it. That was after I'd lied to him about how'd I'd found Mrs. Norris petrified. And Ron and I insult him a lot and sometimes he overhears us. And one time, while he was trying to save my life, my friend Hermione, you met her, she set him on fire. On purpose. So you can see why he might not like us."
Harry blinked, because it hadn't ever occurred to him that Snape might have a legitimate reason to dislike him, but that was a long list he'd come up with off the top of his head.
Sirius Black burst into laughter and looked immensely pleased. "Set him on fire. James and I never went that far. Sounds as if you're growing up right. Tell me about it."
So Harry told him about it. About the Stone in his first year, and about the Chamber of Secrets in his second and the whole Heir of Slytherin business.
When he was done, Sirius shook his head. "I'd think you were taking the mickey out of me if Dumbledore hadn't given me the general outline. And this year you thought I was out for your blood the whole time. It's a miracle you've got time for class."
"Yeah, well..." feeling sheepish and giddy, he pulled his report out of a pocket. He'd never shown his marks to an adult before, but he'd brought them, having an idea that a godfather might want to look at them.
Sirius took the report, surprised for a moment as he realized what it was, then sad. He examined Harry's marks closely.
Sirius said, "First, my James impression. What I think James would say." He ran a hand through his hair and motioned as if adjusting glasses, and his voice, when he spoke, was deeper and smoother. "Bloody well done, Harry. And you did this along with winning the Quidditch cup. A regular chip off the old block. We'll go out for dinner. But try to buck up your Transfiguration scores, that's always been my favorite. Why don't we take a family vacation to the Netherlands or Norway, somewhere the Restriction Against Underage Magic is more sensible, and I'll give you some pointers."
Sirius backed up, rolled his shoulders, and said, "And now my Lily impression." He thrust his chest forward, mimed brushing hair from his eyes, and in a bad falsetto, Sirius said, "Nicely done, Harry, but I know you can do better. I suppose it's Quidditch's fault. Sports are a wholesome hobby, but Quidditch really ought to have more precautions in place, and many students spend far too much time and energy on Quidditch when they ought to be learning. I'll write to Minerva and suggest a restriction on the number of hours house-teams can practice. No more than four hours a week."
It was ridiculous and should've made him laugh, but as Sirius continued in that falsetto, Harry got a little misty-eyed. "Too bad you couldn't take Arithmancy, but I suppose with Quidditch you didn't have the time. And what is this potions score? I know you accused Severus of capital crimes to his colleagues, and your friend set him on fire, but that isn't any reason to grade you unfairly. I'll speak to him about it. But overall, it's good. We're very proud of you."
Sirius rubbed his throat and raised an eyebrow, impression concluded.
Harry smiled, and even laughed a little to show he appreciated the impressions, though he did not feel much like laughing. That was far and away the clearest idea anyone had ever given him of what his parents had been like.
Sirius said, "But enough of that. I need to chase down Moony."
"You mean Professor Lupin?"
"Professor? He's a Professor? Of course he is, what else could Dumbledore have meant when he said he worked here? Well done, Moony! See, he's hiding. He does that. He's all ashamed he believed I was the traitor, and all ashamed he never visited me in Azkaban. So he's been avoiding me. Didn't come to the trial. So now he's also ashamed of having avoided me. So he'll avoid me even more. And the more he's ashamed of avoiding me, the more he'll avoid me, to avoid the shame of avoiding me, you see, and so he'll never see me. That's Moony. It's comforting. Haven't seen him in 12 years and I can already tell he hasn't changed. I better find him soon or there's no knowing how far his head will get up his ass."
Harry took out the Marauder's Map.
#
#
The journey on the train to Platform nine and three-quarters was a pleasant one. Malfoy came by and said something about an insane godfather being a poor substitute for parents, but the best he'd ever have, and Harry was so pleased by Malfoy's assumption that he'd start living with Sirius eventually that he nearly smiled.
Ron started lobbing insults just in time to save him from the error.
When Malfoy left, Harry related Sirius and Lupin's meeting to Hermione and Ron, and how the awkwardness had swiftly passed, and Lupin would probably move in with Sirius later, though Sirius was staying with a cousin for at least a couple of weeks.
Ron said, "Did you hear the rumor that Lupin's a werewolf? Bloody ridiculous. He's the best Defence Professor we've had, not some mangy savage."
Harry said, "Mangy savages? Aren't werewolves just folks who got bit by the wrong thing? You just got a bit by a big dog-man creature. Imagine if it had been a werewolf. You'd be a werewolf too."
Ron said that werewolves didn't bite proper wizards, and the bite changed them anyway, and Ron and Hermione had a loud argument about werewolves, in which Ron kept making the point that she'd know better if she'd ever met a werewolf.
Harry decided to wait on telling Ron until they knew for sure if Lupin had really been outed. Not that he liked keeping secrets from Ron, but it wasn't his secret to tell.
As the train ate the miles, Harry and Hermione began to hold hands, conscious of their looming separation. Ron looked for a moment as if he would tease them over it, but thought better of it.
The train pulled into the station, and Harry helped Hermione with her trunk. Her hand brushed his, and he felt as jittery as he had the day after their first kiss.
They stepped onto the platform, stopped just outside the train's doors.
"So..." said Hermione, biting her lower lip.
Harry wanted to kiss her more than he ever had before, but they only ever kissed in private. He wished they'd stayed in the train car for a few minutes and kissed in private.
Their eyes met, and they leaned in close, forehead to forehead.
Ron shook his head at them, muttered about lovebirds and nausea, waved goodbye, and went to find his siblings.
"This is goodbye, for awhile." said Hermione.
"See you over the summer?" said Harry.
"At the Weasleys'?"
"I don't know. I might be with Sirius. But I'll definitely see you. Even if it's just a day trip."
"You'd better," she said, and licked her lips.
In public or not, they kissed. A kiss that held all their time spent as each others' only company, the sense, of danger, their adventures and secrets, fear they'd gone too far, their wish they'd gone further, all their longing, the sweet pain of parting. A kiss that-
"Wait, wait, wait, hold on!"
The kiss broke, and Harry looked at an astonished Sirius.
Harry said, "What?"
"You're kissing her!"
"She is my girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?" Sirius wiped a fake tear from his eyes. "They grow up so fast. You are a third-year, aren't you? I'm not confused about that? That was hot and heavy for third-years."
Harry said, "I just finished my third year."
"Good. You'd be a runty fourth-year. And you, Hermione, I think it was, you're a third-year too?"
Harry said, "We're the same age."
Hermione said, "We're in the same year, but actually, I'm about ten months older."
"An older woman," said Sirius. "Even better. I've never been so proud of my godson."
Hermione said, "You've only just met him."
"Honey, no godfather's ever been so proud of his godson. So, when's the wedding?"
Harry groaned. He'd had enough of this from the twins. "Probably in ten to twenty years, and I don't know who to."
Sirius said, "How long have you two...?" He pressed his index fingers together, motioning as if his fingers were kissing.
Harry groaned again and said, "End of January."
Hermione said, "January 24th. And you should remember that, Harry. Our six month anniversary is next Friday. I hadn't mentioned it before, what, with the Sirius Black matter, and I don't care very much about those arbitrary milestones, but still. Owl me."
Bemused, Sirius said, "Six months. That is a marriage by third-year standards."
Hermione glared at him, and they went through the barrier together into the crowds of Kings Cross.
Hermione's head was on a swivel, looking for her parents, but she spotted a different, less familiar figure first.
Hermione nudged Harry and pointed to Uncle Vernon, purple-faced and glowering.
Sirius said, "Is that...?"
"That's my Uncle Vernon."
"Capital," said Sirius, and walked straight toward Vernon, Harry and Hermione hurrying in pursuit, Harry worrying, because while he hadn't told Sirius much about his aunt and uncle, he had given Sirius the general idea.
Vernon took a step back as Sirius neared, and Sirius smiled when Uncle Vernon didn't shake his extended hand.
"My name is Sirius Black. I'm Harry's godfather. You haven't seen me these past 12 years because I've been in prison for a murder they've just worked out I didn't commit. They don't care any about the murders I did commit. Though murder isn't the right word for those, because they were all self-defence, more or less. I'm not sure when I'll be able to take over guardianship, due to some lingering legal matters, questions of my mental stability, you see, but I'll be watching, so take good care of my godson, you hear?"
Uncle Vernon turned very pale and trembled. Harry had never seem him do that before.
Sirius leaned in and whispered furiously to Uncle Vernon, who gave a reply Harry didn't catch.
Hermione gave Harry a final hug and whispered, "Best year ever?"
Staring into her cinnamon brown eyes, Harry thought of freeing Sirius and catching Pettigrew. Of talks with Lupin, learning the Patronus, and winning the Quidditch. But mostly he thought of Hermione. Of conversations, and hours in the common room just being next to her, and the shape of her hand in his. "Best year so far," Harry corrected. "Next year will be even better."
And it was.
:::
Whoo! It's done. I reserve the right to use any of this for Mentordora if I feel like it.
It's safe to say that if "fourth-year is even better," Voldemort doesn't come back at the end of it. Whether that's because he's stopped by a more communicative Harry, Hermione and even Ron, or because, without Pettigrew, the whole tri-wizard resurrection plot doesn't take place, I leave up to you.
Any ideas I have for fourth-year will be saved for GoM and Mentordora, which are worryingly similar as it is.
I have a couple latter-year fluff scenes in mind which might fit this, but I don't know if I'll write them.
I don't know if this Harry and Hermione would really be together forever, but if I wrote them breaking up, I'd then write them getting back together.
I still don't think I'm good at romance, but I'm improving?
If you've enjoyed this, please go to Amazon, select the books department, and get Monstrosity, by JLL (L, J L). It's only 99 cents, and it really is pretty good. If you happen to review it, that'll be a precious fact to me for years.