They Shook Hands: Year Three (Original Version)

They Shook Hands : Year Three

An alternate (but realistic!) universe Harry Potter fic
by Dethryl

Chapter Seventeen - The Truth About Sirius Black

Harry Potter was frustrated. The school year had passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Exams were only ten days away; May was almost over, and the dementors had yet to catch Sirius Black.

As the months had ticked by, Harry's mood had progressively deteriorated. He'd now been in a foul mood for days. He was terse with his friends, he had no patience with Weasley, and even the time he spent with Blaise couldn't put a smile on his face anymore.

To top this morning off, he hadn't slept well. He'd had his old nightmare about Voldemort killing his parents again and had woken up screaming. Ever since he'd learned about Black's involvement in the murders, his cackling laughter had been a part of it as well.

"You know, Harry," Crabbe said in response to his grumbling, "if you're so eager to catch Sirius Black, you ought to be checking the Marauder's Map every night before you go to bed. He's obviously sneaking into the castle somehow, but that's not important. Once he's here, you'll see him."

There was a moment of dead silence.

"Crabbe, that is the most brilliant thing I've ever heard." Harry was once again astounded by his stocky friend. "I think your problem is that you just don't look all that clever."

Crabbe grinned at him. "Thanks, I think."

Harry rummaged through his trunk and pulled out the map that had been a present from Percy Weasley. In a desperate attempt to save his baby sister, Percy had begged Harry on his knees and given up this powerful magical object.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry said, tapping the parchment with his wand. As always, he marvelled as the ink appeared, showing the castle and grounds. There he and his mates were in the Slytherin dorms.

Harry flipped through the folds of the map. It was fairly easy to read so early in the morning when all the students and staff were just beginning to rise. Everyone was still in their dorms, except for Dumbledore, pacing round and round in his office.

It didn't appear that Black was in the castle at the moment. Harry shifted his scrutiny to the grounds. Hagrid was moving around, which surprised Harry. Then he froze in disbelief as he read another name on the parchment near Hagrid.

Peter Pettigrew.

That was the man who had been murdered by Sirius Black in a street full of Muggles. What was his name doing on the Marauder's Map? He wasn't marked as a ghost, like the castle ghosts were. His indicator dot looked just like Hagrid's. Both dots had stopped moving in very close proximity.

What was going on?

Harry pulled on his clothes and shoved his feet into his slippers. Ignoring the wondering questions of his mates, he walked down the hall a few doors to where the seventh year boys slept. He pushed the door open hesitantly. Soft snores told him that all three boys were still asleep. He ducked inside.

"Percy," he said softly. There was no response, so he repeated it.

"Mmm." It wasn't words, more like a sound.

"Percy!" Harry shook him. "Wake up."

"Wha'?" Percy came back to the world. "What's going on? Harry? What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you. Right now."

"Sure, sure." Percy yawned hugely and sat up. He slid himself up to the head of his bed, curling his legs under him. He grabbed his wand off the night stand and waved it, causing his dressing gown to float through the air to him, which he then put on.

"Sit," he said with another yawn. Harry took a place at the foot of the bed, and closed the curtains behind him.

"Do a Silencing Charm."

If that surprised Percy at all, he didn't let it show. "Silencio."

"Good." He pulled out the map. "I need to know about this. How accurate is it? Is it ever wrong?"

"As far as I know, it's dead accurate," Percy said, fighting off tiredness. "Fred and George swore to it."

"Could they have been lying?"

"No. I know my brothers, and they were telling me the truth." He covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned again.

Harry put the map away. "What do you know about Peter Pettigrew?"

"Huh?" Percy was definitely confused. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"What do you know?"

"Well Pettigrew is a hero, firstly. I was six or so when I first heard about him. He was friends with James Potter and- oh."

"Keep going."

"Well, he was friends with your folks, and when Black betrayed them, he went to track him down."

"Uh huh."

"From all the stories I heard, Peter wasn't anywhere near the wizard that your dad was or that Black was. But he didn't care. He was so filled with anger and despair that he threw caution for his own life to the wind and went after Black anyway. He could have let the Aurors handle it, but he was a Gryffindor. He didn't let his fear control him."

"And Black killed him?"

"Along with a dozen Muggles. There were lots of witnesses. All that they found of him was a finger. But he bought the Aurors enough time to arrive and capture Black. They gave him the Order of Merlin for his sacrifice. He's a hero."

"Thanks, Percy." Harry had heard enough.

"What's going on, Harry? Can I help?"

"You already did. Don't say anything about this to anyone. I mean it."

Percy stared at him for a moment. "As you wish, Harry. Finite incantatem."

Harry exited the dorm, leaving a very confused Head Boy behind. He couldn't imagine what Harry was up to, and the effort of trying to figure it out was making him sleepy again. He laid his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes.

* * *

All day long, whenever Harry got a spare moment, he checked the map. Pettigrew's name was still there, still in Hagrid's hut. Hagrid himself was teaching Care of Magical Creatures as though nothing were amiss. Harry was at a loss to explain it. The only thing he could do was wait until nightfall, when he could go investigate.

He had his dad's invisibility cloak tucked into his pocket as he went up to dinner. He was too distracted to eat, and he ignored Blaise's attempts to get him to talk. Instead, he drank several glasses of pumpkin juice and sank into deep thought.

There was a small stir as dinner was ending when an owl dropped off a bit of parchment to Weasley. He opened it, immediately got a big smile, and said something to Thomas and Finnigan. When they were leaving, he angled away from the crowd and headed for the front gate.

Harry checked his watch. There were only a few minutes left until curfew. What could Weasley possibly be doing? Harry turned sharply away from his friends as they hurried back to the common room for a study session and stepped into a broom closet. He pulled the map out of his pocket and drew his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. Lumos."

He found Weasley easily enough outside the front gate. He was heading off towards the Quidditch pitch. That didn't make sense; Weasley didn't play on the team. But Weasley wasn't going to the Quidditch pitch. Harry's eyes widened as he realized the truth -- Weasley was making a beeline for Hagrid's hut!

That owl had to have been from Hagrid. Harry was sure of it. He pulled his dad's cloak out of his pocket and put it on. Under the cover of invisibility, Harry exited the broom closet, passed through the now-empty entrance hall, and opened the door out into the twilight.

Weasley was about halfway to his destination. Harry walked quickly after him. What was Weasley doing going to meet with Hagrid and a dead wizard hero? Harry didn't know, but he was sure going to find out!

Harry looked down at the map as he walked. Pettigrew was still there. Harry decided that a nearby outcropping of rock would be the perfect place to hide and watch.

When Weasley reached the door to Hagrid's hut, he knocked immediately, and was tackled to the ground as Hagrid's boar hound Fang jumped all over him. Hagrid closed the door.

Harry waited, watching, as Weasley left the hut -- and Pettigrew's dot moved with him! Harry wanted answers. He put away the map, tucked away his invisibility cloak and tried to stay calm. He drew his wand and waited for Weasley to get close.

"Halt!" he ordered, brandishing his wand. Weasley stopped in his tracks. His hands were filled with his stupid pet rat, nowhere near his wand. He was caught.

"What do you want, Potter?" Weasley asked as he narrowed his eyes, the pale blue irises like chips of ice. "Got no Muggleborns to petrify tonight?"

"Shut up. What are you doing out here?"

"What business is it of yours?" was Weasley's snotty reply. "I don't see you wearing a prefect's badge."

"Why were you down at Hagrid's hut?"

Before Weasley could answer, his rat squirmed in his hands. "Easy, Scabbers. It's just an evil Slytherin. We can take care of him."

Suddenly Harry heard a low growling sound. He also heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws. He kept his wand trained on Weasley, but took a quick look around.

Something was bounding toward them, quiet as a shadow -- an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog. It made a great leap and the front paws hit Weasley on the chest; he keeled over backward.

He could hear it growling as it skidded around for a new attack. The dog sprang back toward them; his jaws fastened around Weasley's leg and dragged him away as easily as though he were a rag doll.

It was the same dog he'd seen in Magnolia Crescent. Harry was certain of it. He'd liked that dog and been sad to have to leave him behind. Just as he'd predicted, the dog was great for terrorizing Weasley, because the boy's screams would be legend in the school if Harry got out of this alive.

But Weasley hadn't answered his questions, and Harry wasn't about to give up. He lunged after Weasley, barely missing the boy's cloak. He managed to get a brief hold, but the threadbare fabric ripped from the force of the dog's pulling.

Harry cast a spell to shoot a rope out of the end of his wand. It wrapped around Weasley's waist and yanked Harry across the ground. He held on fiercely as the dog dragged them both into the shadow of the Whomping Willow.

Its branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop people going nearer. The dog dragged them into a large gap in the roots. Weasley was fighting furiously, but he was already slipping out of sight. He hooked one of his legs around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground, but a horrible crack cut the air like a shot; the leg had broken, and a moment later, his feet vanished from sight.

Harry slid along the ground, and the spell connecting him to Weasley broke as he lost hold of his wand. He tumbled down through the roots, sliding head-first down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel.

He groped about for his wand and cast a light spell. He'd seen this tunnel on the Marauder's Map heading off towards Hogsmeade, but the Whomping Willow was off-limits and the violent nature of the tree had always kept everyone away.

He moved as fast as he could, bent almost double. It went on forever, and he couldn't see Weasley any more, though he could hear him crying. And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Harry could see a patch of dim light through a small opening. He paused, edging forward. He raised his lit wand to see what lay beyond.

It was a room; a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.

Harry pulled himself out of the hole and stared around. The room was deserted, but a door to his right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. His eyes fell on a wooden chair near him. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.

It felt like the right distance to Hogsmeade, not that he'd ever done it hunched over before. But none of the buildings in Hogsmeade were of this construction except-

"The Shrieking Shack," he whispered. But ghosts didn't do that kind of damage.

At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. Quietly as he could, he crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.

He reached the dark landing.

"Nox," he whispered, and the light at the end of his wand went out. Only one door was open. As he crept toward it, he heard movement from behind it. There was a low moan.

Wand held tightly before him, Harry kicked the door wide open. On the floor next to a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Weasley.

Harry stepped cautiously into the room. "All right, Weasley? Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," Weasley moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "He's an Animagus."

Weasley was staring over Harry's shoulder. Harry wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them.

This was no man. This was a zombie, something Harry had read about in his Defence books. Waxy skin was stretched tightly over the bones of his face. Combined with the grinning yellow teeth, it looked liked a skull. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, Harry wouldn't have taken him for alive at all.

Harry pointed his wand straight at Sirius Black's black heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he whispered.

Harry forgot that he was short and skinny and thirteen, whereas Black was a tall, full-grown man. He forgot that Black was now probably armed with a wand. He forgot magic altogether. That taunt roared in his ears, and all Harry knew was that he wanted to hurt Black as badly as he could and that he didn't care how much he got hurt in return.

"You killed my mum and dad!" Harry roared, and he lunged forward.

Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn't raise the wand in time. One of Harry's hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tip away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backward, into the wall.

There was a blinding flash as the wand in Black's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry's face by inches; Harry felt the shrunken arm under his fingers twisting madly, but he clung on, his other hand punching every part of Black it could find.

But Black's free hand had found Harry's throat. "No," he hissed, "I've waited too long!"

The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew. Blackness was setting in.

And then he could breathe again. Black released him, taking his wand. Harry spent the next few minutes just gasping for air. When he looked up, it was to find himself at wandpoint.

"You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice wheezy. "Why?"

"I know I killed your parents. I can't deny it," Black said very quietly, his voice sounding as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. He stared down at Harry with those sunken eyes. "But you've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't. You don't understand."

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "My mum tried to stop Voldemort killing me, and she's dead now. You did that. You did it!"

"Not me," Black whispered. "Not me."

Harry didn't want to listen. He'd failed to avenge his parents, and now was likely going to die himself. But he couldn't help but ask, "Then who?"

"Him."

"Weasley? You're crackers!"

And then came a new sound. Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor. Someone was moving downstairs.

"Help!" Weasley shouted. "Sirius Black is up here! Help!"

Footsteps thundered up the stairs. The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks, and Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted.

Black's stolen wand flew out of his hand. Lupin caught it deftly and then moved into the room, staring at Black.

"Sirius, my old friend," he said sadly. "Looking rather ragged, aren't we? Finally, the flesh reflects the madness within."

"Well, you'd know all about the madness within, wouldn't you?"

"It's over, Sirius."

"Remus! Wait!"

Lupin's voice was completely emotionless. "For what, Sirius? For you to trick me the same way you tricked Lily and James into making you their Secret Keeper? For you to betray me the same way you betrayed them? For you to kill me the same way you killed Peter? No. It's over. I'm going to take you back up to the school and turn you over to the dementors."

"He's not dead."

"What?"

"I said, he's not dead."

"Who?" Lupin demanded.

"Peter."

"Peter isn't dead?" Lupin sounded as though he couldn't believe it. "What fantasy is this? The dementors have driven you insane."

"Peter Pettigrew?" Harry interrupted. "He's alive?"

"He is."

"Don't listen to him, Harry!" Lupin ordered sharply. "He's a tricky one who'll say anything."

"Tell me about Peter Pettigrew," Harry said, ignoring Lupin.

"He was at school with us. We thought he was our friend."

"Harry, we don't have time for this!"

"Then go! I'll deal with him!"

"After rushing down when I saw him drag you off, I certainly will not," Lupin declared with a steely note in his voice that Harry had never heard before.

"I believe him."

Lupin was astounded. It was plain on his face, and Black's as well.

"I've seen him before, in his Animagus form." Harry looked piercingly at Black.

Black nodded. "On Magnolia Crescent."

"He could have killed me then. But he didn't. And I've got other evidence. I've seen Pettigrew's name floating around the castle on this map I've seen-"

"Map?" Sirius interrupted sharply. "Map, do you say?" He laughed, and not a note of insanity was present in the sound. "Remus, my old friend, young Harry here's been up to no good!"

Harry's jaw dropped along with Lupin's. "How do you know about the map?" he demanded.

"Know about it?" Black seemed almost giddy. "I invented it. Remus helped some, and your dad, too. We were all together in Gryffindor, did you know that?"

"Harry, how did you get the map? It was confiscated by Filch many years ago."

"It doesn't matter, Remus! The map never lies! Peter is alive! And he's right here!"

"Where, Sirius?"

Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Weasley. Mystified, Harry glanced around at Weasley, who looked bewildered.

"But then-" Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "Why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless-"

Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see. "Unless he was the one. Unless you switched without telling me?"

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.

Lupin lowered his wand, stare fixed at Black. The Professor walked to Black's side, flung his arms wide, and embraced Black like a brother.

"I was watching the sky when I saw them. I saw you attack them, and I thought the worst," Lupin choked out in a thick voice. "Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive, Moony. Now man up. We've got unfinished business to take care of."

"Right. Of course." Lupin cleared his throat. He patted Harry on the shoulder as he moved past to see about Weasley. Harry took the opportunity to find his wand and hide it in his sleeve.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"Why?" Weasley sounded very suspicious. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

Weasley hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Weasley had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping.

Lupin moved closer to Weasley. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Weasley said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"He's not a rat. He's a wizard. An Animagus."

"You're mental! Peter Pettigrew's dead!" Ron protested. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me. Not this time, though!"

Black made a grab at Scabbers; Weasley yelled with pain as Black's weight fell on his broken leg.

"Sirius! No!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Weasley.

"You can't do it just like that! He needs to understand. We've got to explain. You've got to wait!"

"I did my waiting!" Black shrieked. "Twelve years of it! In Azkaban! We can explain afterwards!" Black still had one hand clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Weasley's face and neck as he tried to escape.

"He's got - a right - to know - everything!" Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand, and Harry -- you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Weasley's bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands.

"All right, then," Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for."

"You're nutters, both of you," said Weasley shakily. "I've had enough of this. I'm off." He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Lupin raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.

"You're going to hear me out, Weasley," he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Weasley yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Weasley swayed and overbalanced and fell down onto the bed.

"There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Weasley, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Weasley asked Lupin tensely.

"Force him to show himself," answered Lupin. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Weasley hesitated. Then he held out the rat, and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head.

"Ready, Sirius?"

The escaped criminal approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

"Together?" Lupin handed Weasley's wand to Black.

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both men's wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in mid-air, his small grey form twisting madly. Weasley yelled. The rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light, and then it was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground, limbs were sprouting, and a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry. His thin, colourless hair was unkempt, and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. Something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Harry saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

"Well, hello, Peter," said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see."

"S-Sirius! R-Remus!" Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. "My friends!"

Black's wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, and then turned again to Pettigrew.

His voice light and casual, Lupin said, "We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed."

"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, and Harry could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, "You don't believe it, do you? He tried to kill me, Remus!"

"So we've heard," said Lupin, more coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'll be so kind. I must admit, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat."

"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "You-Know-Who's supporters were after me, because I put one of their best men in Azkaban -- the spy, Sirius Black!"

Black's face contorted.

"How dare you!" he growled, sounding suddenly like the bear-sized dog he had been. "Lily and James only made you Secret Keeper because I suggested it! I thought it was the perfect plan. A bluff! Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you! It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew fell to his knees as though he'd been cut off. He shuffled forward, grovelling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled. "There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," said Black.

"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You can't believe this! Wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said Lupin. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.

"Forgive me," Black asked simply.

"Old friend, there's nothing to forgive," said Lupin. "And will you, in turn, forgive me?"

"Of course. And now we must deal with the vermin. I've been looking forward to this for a very long time. It was the one happy thought the dementors couldn't take away from me. Will you join me?"

"Yes, I think so," said Lupin grimly.

"You wouldn't! You won't!" gasped Pettigrew. He was trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry.

"Harry! Harry, you look just like your father, just like James!"

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Black. "HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Harry," whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed. James would have understood, Harry. He would have shown me mercy."

"Because of you, he'll never know what James would have wanted!" Black roared as he and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them. "You sold Lily and James to Voldemort! Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord! You have no idea; the weapons he has you can't imagine! I was scared, Sirius! I was never brave like you and Remus and James! I never meant it to happen! He forced me! He would have killed me, Sirius! What would you have done?"

"Died!" roared Black. "I would have died rather than betray my friends!"

Harry understood that. Apparently in Gryffindor, as in Slytherin, you stuck by your friends.

Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

"And you should have realized," said Lupin quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

"Expelliarmus!"

A new voice shouted the Disarming Charm. Harry's eyes snapped to the door, and he raised his own wand to guard Pettigrew. It was Professor Snape! Lupin's wand and Black's borrowed wand flew into the air, and Snape caught them neatly, one-handed. He strode into the room, pointing his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he breathed invitingly. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Black fell silent. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

"Oh, vengeance is sweet," Snape said with a smirk smarmy enough to grease a thousand sleds. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you."

"Severus-" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you were helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout."

"Brilliant, Snape," Black said. "You put your keen mind to the task and once again come to the wrong conclusion. Now if you'll excuse us, Remus and I have business to attend to."

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently.

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this. He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin. A tame werewolf, imagine."

Wait, werewolf?

"Severus, don't be a fool!"

"He can't help it; it's habit by now," Black quipped, somehow finding something funny to say. "Why don't you go and play with your chemistry set?"

"Why don't I just kill you now? I could do it, you know, but why deny the dementors? They'll be so very pleased to see you, Black. Pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I dare say. It's said to be unbearable to watch, but I'll do my best." Snape's voice was filled with satisfaction.

What little colour there was in Black's face left it.

"Professor, wait!" Harry interrupted.

"Potter, what are you doing here?"

"He's innocent! Peter Pettigrew is alive! This piece of vermin," he kicked at Pettigrew, "is the reason I have no parents."

Snape noticed for the first time the cowering man who trembled at the end of Harry's steady wand.

"Pettigrew," he said in a tone one might use to describe a grungy pair of old trainers. "You look well for a dead man.

"Severus, my old friend! You've come to rescue me!"

"Let's not be hasty."

"They were going to kill me!"

"Shut up!" Harry shouted, and he kicked Pettigrew in the back. "We'll take you back up to the castle."

"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You - thank you - it's more than I deserve - thank you -"

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. He pointed his wand. "I'm going to hand you over to the dementors for the Kiss. Petrificus totalis!"

Pettigrew stiffened up like a statue and fell to the floor. Professor Snape shot thin cords from of his wand, and Pettigrew was also bound and gagged. "Stupefy!" he cast, and the Stunner rendered Pettigrew unconscious as well.

For a moment, no one spoke. There was no sound. Black stood there, staring at the man who had tricked everyone, had doomed him to twelve years of hellish torments in the castle prison of Azkaban. His thin chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. Flickers of madness were dancing in his eyes.

Then Weasley let out a moan of pain.

"Right," said Lupin, suddenly businesslike. "Weasley, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."

He hurried over to Weasley, bent down, tapped Weasley's leg with his wand, and muttered, "Ferula." Bandages spun up Weasley's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet; Weasley put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.

"That's better," he said. "Thanks."

"Severus, will you assist with Peter? If anyone can prevent the sneak from getting away, it's you."

Snape grunted at that compliment but muttered, "Mobilicorpus." As though invisible strings were tied to Pettigrew's wrists, neck, and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still rigidly locked in place. He hung a few inches above the ground, his hands frozen claws at his sides. Snape guided Pettigrew back down the stairs and into the tunnel. Weasley gampied along after him.

Black was looking around in amazement. "It's over," he said, not sounding as though he really believed it himself.

"You're free." Lupin said, just as quietly.

Black looked up at Harry. "Harry." He stepped closer. "My word, Moony, it's just like looking at Prongs."

"I know, Padfoot."

Prongs, Harry realized, must be his dad.

"Do you know what this means?" Black said to Harry. "Turning Pettigrew in, I mean?"

"You're free," said Harry.

"Yes," said Black. "But I'm also- I don't know if anyone ever told you, but I'm your godfather, Harry."

His godfather! Harry didn't know how many more shocks he could take tonight. He'd never imagined that he might have something like this.

"Your parents appointed me your guardian," said Black hesitantly. "If anything happened to them-"

Harry felt dazed. Did Black mean what he thought he meant?

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," Black fumbled along. "But, well, think about it. Once my name's cleared, if you wanted a, a different home-"

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.

"What, live with you?" he said.

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Black quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd-"

"Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Black's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! I've never wanted anything else! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Black turned right around to look at him. "You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" said Harry.

Black's gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask.

to be continued...