Intersections

Chapter 12: Secrets

Remus and Sirius stood in the paddock of the Burrow, watching Harry soar gracefully in the grey winter skies.

"Merlin, he looks like James," Remus breathed.

Sirius said nothing, his gaze fixed on Harry as the boy nosedived toward the ground. He nearly ran toward the boy, worried that he'd crash and hurt himself, but a sharp cry stopped him.

"Harry, be careful!" Hermione shouted, where she was sitting on a thick blanket and reading underneath a nearby tree.

Harry laughed and grinned as he pulled himself upright, his feet brushing the ground. "I'm fine!" he said, dismounting and plopping down next to her. "What're you reading?"

Hermione showed him Numerology and Ancient Mathematics. "My friend Matthew gave it to me for Christmas."

"Is that a Muggle book?" Remus asked, coming toward them. Harry tensed as Sirius followed Remus silently. "May I see it, Hermione?"

"Certainly," said Hermione, looking at Remus quizzically and handing it over.

Remus' lips quirked as he flipped through the book. "Some of this is surprisingly accurate," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"There's a class at Hogwarts called Arithmancy," Remus explained. "It's about the magical properties of numbers. I took it as my elective starting in third year. The information in this book - well - the Muggles don't believe that it's real, but some of it is actually true."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Do you think you could teach me Arithmancy? Maths is my favorite subject - or was, I suppose," she ended with a frown. "I didn't think wizards really had an equivalent."

Remus chuckled. "I might be able to teach you the basics; Arithmancy was never my best subject. I'm actually going to focus on teaching you two Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense - especially the last one."

"Fred and George already taught us some hexes and curses," Harry said, grinning. "They said that it was part of Defense training, but I didn't believe them."

"Did they really?" Remus asked, raising his eyebrows and looking very amused. "To my knowledge, hexes and curses are not part of the Defense curriculum, but they are quite useful for dueling if you ever come across an enemy." He turned and smiled. "Sirius is a wonderful duelist."

A ghost of a smile passed across Sirius' face. "I used to be," he said, "but I'm out of practice. James and I used to duel each other all the time for laughs."

Harry met Sirius' gaze hesitantly. "Was he good? My father?"

"Yes," said Sirius, his eyes flickering. "He was excellent." He nodded toward the Cleansweep lying next to Harry. "He was a wonderful flier too, just like you."

Harry seemed to consider this for a moment. "Can you, er, can you tell me more about him?"

"Yes," said Sirius, a brilliant smile spreading across his face. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Come, Hermione," said Remus in a low voice. Hermione looked at him, surprised. Remus continued, "I think we should give them some time alone. Sirius is Harry's godfather, after all." He smiled sadly and stood, brushing grass off of his trousers.

Hermione bit her lip and stood up, wondering if Harry would be all right being alone with Sirius. Harry had been staunchly avoiding Sirius since Sirius had attacked Snape that morning, though Hermione hadn't had a chance to ask why. After an awkward, silent lunch with the two new guests, Harry had bolted up to Ron's room, spent an hour there, and then gone flying. Hermione had gone to Ginny's room to read halfheartedly, heading outside to keep an eye on Harry once she saw him fetching a broom. Remus and Sirius had joined them shortly afterward, keeping a careful distance from the teenagers.

"I was also friends with Harry's father," said Remus, cutting into her thoughts. "James and Sirius were closest, of course, but they were also very good friends to me. It's - startling to see Harry after so many years. He looks exactly like his father did at that age, but he has his mother's eyes." Remus shook his head and smiled at Hermione. "But enough about Harry. Please, tell me about yourself."

"Oh," Hermione stammered, surprised. "Well, there's not much to tell. I lived in London my whole life until very recently. My parents' office was destroyed by an explosion - Death Eaters, I know now - and so we moved to Surrey, where I met Harry at the local comprehensive."

"Ah, yes, Stonewall High," said Remus, nodding. "Dumbledore told us how he traced some magic there at the beginning of December."

Hermione nodded. "Harry and I both performed accidental magic one day after school at Stonewall." She didn't explain further; it wasn't anyone's business what happened that night between her, Harry, and Piers Polkiss. "Mr. Weasley said that the Order began to track our magic in the surrounding areas after that. That's how he managed to use the telephone to contact my house." She frowned, tilting her head as a thought suddenly struck her. "I wonder why he didn't contact Harry, though. Harry had a telephone too - we rang each other several times."

Remus' brow furrowed. "Did Harry ever use magic inside his aunt's house?"

"I don't know," said Hermione thoughtfully, "but I used magic inside my house shortly before Mr. Weasley called."

"There's your answer," said Remus, and he led her through the back door into the kitchen. On the table rested a pile of textbooks that Remus had brought for their lessons. (They'd been shrunken in his pocket when he arrived; he'd had to take them out and enlarge them, much to Hermione's fascination.) Remus looked through the stack and sighed, shaking his head regretfully. "I don't have an Arithmancy book in here, but if you'd like, I can teach you some of what I remember before we start the formal lessons tomorrow."

"All right," said Hermione, unusually pleased that she was receiving special instruction. She hadn't had a teacher pay much individual attention to her since primary school; at Witsford, everyone competed for the teachers' attention and thus received it in equal amounts, and she hadn't spent enough time at Stonewall to really make a place for herself.

"Go ahead and get some quill and parchment, then," said Remus. Hermione turned and went into Ginny's room with an anticipatory grin, pausing a moment to gaze at the beautiful astronomical model that her friend had given her. Despite its resemblance to a product of Diagon Alley, Mr. Weasley had declared it free of charms, hexes, and jinxes; it was just an extraordinary piece of craftsmanship. Hermione felt oddly triumphant that the model wasn't magical. Some things in the Muggle world were just as good as those in the wizarding one.

She walked onto the landing just in time to see a very annoyed Harry Potter, whose eyes were spitting fire as he thundered up the stairs. She looked at his retreating back, raising her eyebrows when his door slam echoed throughout the house, and went back toward the kitchen, where Sirius was ranting rather loudly at Remus over the stove. Hermione paused at the threshold, wondering if she should go in.

"...don't know how to do this, Remus! I don't know anything about him! I - I don't know who he is. I don't know his favorite color, his favorite food, his favorite Quidditch team. I don't know if he's had any girlfriends, I don't know what he wants to be when he grows up, I don't know -"

"Stop, Sirius," said Remus tightly, turning away. "Please stop."

Sirius quieted immediately. "Remus?"

Remus took a few deep breaths before answering, pouring two cups of tea and handing one to Sirius. "What matters now," he said in a strained voice, "is that Harry's with us. It doesn't do any good to dwell on the past."

"That's easy for you to say," Sirius said in a low and bitter voice, and Remus' cup dropped from his fingers with a large crash. Sirius hissed as the hot tea scalded his fingers.

"Sorry, Sirius," said Remus, though he didn't sound it. He took out his wand and murmured "Reparo" as well as another spell that Hermione couldn't hear.

"I should be the one apologizing," said Sirius haltingly.

Remus' eyes searched Sirius' face. "Apology accepted," he said quietly. He looked past Sirius' shoulder and caught Hermione's eye. Hermione's face flushed and she looked away, embarrassed that she'd been caught eavesdropping. "I've got a student to teach, Sirius. You should go upstairs and talk to Harry."

Sirius whirled around, looking at Hermione with an expression of mixed anger and shame. He nodded at her and stiffly moved past her toward the staircase. Hermione watched him go apprehensively.

"Come on, Hermione," said Remus, smiling kindly. He strode toward the living room. "Let's go and discuss some Arithmancy."

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Harry picked at the grass, watching Hermione and Remus go into the house as Sirius told him about James Potter.

"James was a Chaser on the House team," said Sirius. "He was - truly one of the best Quidditch players Hogwarts had ever seen." His gaze swept from the broomstick back to Harry's face. "I expect you would be too, if you'd gone to Hogwarts."

Harry flushed at the compliment. "Ron and Ginny said I'd be a good Seeker."

Sirius laughed. "You always did like the Snitch the best. I thought it was just because it was shiny, but -"

"Wait, what do you mean?" Harry interrupted, confused.

"Oh, right, of course you wouldn't remember." Sirius' face was both sad and wistful. "I bought you a toy Quidditch set for your first Christmas - it included a miniature model of a Quidditch pitch as well as miniature versions of all of the balls. James would try to teach you how to shoot the Quaffle into the goalposts, but you were always more interested in catching the Snitch instead. And eating it," Sirius finished with a grin.

"I - what - eating it?" Harry spluttered.

Sirius smirked. "Oh, yes. You were at the stage where you'd pick up things from the floor and stick them into your mouth whenever you could."

Harry's face was burning despite the chill winter air. "Oh."

The smile on Sirius' face faded just as quickly as it had come. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as Sirius gazed at him intensely. "Harry," said Sirius, "your Muggle relatives - how were they?"

"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon?" said Harry, startled. "They were - all right, I suppose. Why?"

"Harry -" Sirius grabbed Harry's wrists convulsively. Harry jerked away from him, his eyes widening in alarm. "Harry, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there for you. I..." Sirius took a deep breath. "As your godfather, I was the one who was supposed to take care of you if anything happened to your parents, and I failed horribly."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "S'all right. I mean - my aunt and uncle weren't so bad, especially once my cousin Dudley left to go to Smeltings."

"They treated you well then?" Sirius asked, hope lighting his face. "From what Lily said of her sister..."

"Well, they made me do loads of chores," Harry mumbled. "But they - they still sent me to school and gave me a room and gave me food to eat."

Sirius cast Harry a doubtful look. "I suppose that's all right."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, wishing they could talk about something else.

"Did you get anything good for Christmas?" Sirius asked after a pause.

Harry nodded. "Aunt Petunia gave me a photo album full of photographs of my mother. It was the first gift she's ever given me."

"The first gift?" Sirius repeated slowly. "Do you mean the first good gift?"

"Yeah, a toothpick and a coat hanger don't really count," Harry said, and then his face turned red as he realized what he'd just said. "She bought me a whole new set of clothes and new glasses last month. It was the first time she's ever done that, too."

A horrified look was creeping up onto Sirius' face. "Why didn't she get you all of those things before? What did you wear?"

"Well...I..." Harry shrugged defensively as the questions echoed loudly through his mind. "I mean, it was nice of her. She and Uncle Vernon sent me to the hospital, too, and they'd never done that before."

Sirius' face was white. "Why were you in hospital? Did she - did they -"

"No," said Harry quickly. "There was this bloke at school - anyway, they were a lot nicer to me after that."

Sirius simply stared at Harry for a few seconds, and then his face slowly filled with rage. "You're telling me," Sirius said furiously, "that you never received new clothes, new glasses, or a Christmas gift from your relatives until last month? Despite the fact that you've lived with them for fourteen years?"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, heat rising in his cheeks. "When you put it like that - but it wasn't so bad, not really. They didn't beat me or anything."

"Harry," said Sirius, his face burning with rage, and he grabbed Harry's wrist, gently this time. "Harry, I am so sorry. You deserved - still deserve - so much more than that."

Harry's face burned with anger and embarrassment. He knew that Sirius was right - he'd often had the same thought himself - but what did it matter now? Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been treating him loads better recently - that had to count for something. It wasn't like he was still living at Privet Drive, anyway. He stood abruptly, shaking his wrist from Sirius' grip and grabbing the broomstick lying next to him. "I'd better go and put this back. It's getting dark."

"Harry -" Sirius stood, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry shrugged it off angrily, seething on his way to and from the shed. He slammed the kitchen door open, stomping his way up to Ron's room past a startled Hermione, and pushed the door shut with a forceful bang.

Shame mixed with anger as Harry threw himself onto the bed, breathing heavily, realizing that he'd just thrown a temper tantrum equivalent to Dudley's. He remembered Snape's warning that his mental shields should be up at all times, and once again he tried to picture the concrete barriers restraining thoughts and emotions in his mind, but just when he thought he'd built them up enough, a deep-seated resentment took hold of him as he began to think about his life at the Dursleys. He'd dealt with the skimpy meals and torn clothing for years with a resignation that often turned into indifference, though all of that had changed once Hermione had introduced herself guilelessly in front of all of their classmates. That was when Harry began to hope for something better than a life alone - when he began to think that perhaps he also deserved friendship and trust and love and...family.

Harry sighed and sat up as a knock sounded on the door. "Who is it?" he asked.

"It's Sirius." He paused. "May I come in?"

"All right," said Harry.

Sirius left the door open and sat down tentatively on Ron's bed across the room. "Hello," he said quietly.

"Hello," Harry replied, averting his eyes guiltily.

"I wanted to say sorry," Sirius said, "for...insulting your aunt and uncle. I had no right to do that."

Harry looked at Sirius in surprise. "They weren't exactly good to me," he said awkwardly. "They were just - all right." He shrugged, wishing they could talk about something else. "You're right. I deserve better. I...I accept your apology."

Sirius looked as relieved as Harry felt. "So - what have you been doing?"

"Trying to practice Occlumency," Harry answered. "It's not working."

Sirius' eyes flashed with a sharp, disgusted anger. "Snape's teaching you, right?"

"Yeah," said Harry, and again he felt an inexplicable urge to defend someone who he would've normally gladly insulted. "He's - he's not that bad. A bit rude, but - at least I'm not seeing into Voldemort's mind anymore."

"That's good," said Sirius, though he looked as if he believed anything but. He took a deep breath. "Snape and I don't get along. At all. We never have." His fists clenched. "It was - I shouldn't have attacked him this morning. I'll try to get along with him for your sake, and for Remus'. He's helping both of you more than I ever could. Dumbledore trusts him, too."

Harry was a little startled by this last statement. He knew Dumbledore was the head of the Order, but he hadn't really thought about him ever since Dumbledore had visited the Burrow and revealed that Sirius and Remus would be moving in. He quickly latched onto the other parts of Sirius' answer. "You know that potion that Snape gave Remus? What is it for?" The Weasleys and Dumbledore had mentioned something about Remus' condition, but they'd refused to say what it was.

Sirius suddenly looked uneasy. "It's not my place to tell you."

"Oh."

"We should go downstairs," said Sirius, standing up abruptly. "Remus can explain everything."

"Er, okay." Harry followed Sirius downstairs, uncomfortably aware of the tension between them. In the living room, Remus was speaking quietly to Hermione, who was scribbling notes down on parchment at an alarming rate. Harry was sure that the quill she was holding would fly out of her hand if it moved any faster,

Remus looked up with a smile. "Sirius. Harry. What brings you down here?"

"Er -" Harry looked at Sirius.

"The potion," Sirius said, jerking his head toward the little glass vial Snape had given Remus earlier that morning. It was seated on the table next to a large stack of books.

"Oh," said Remus, understanding creeping onto his face. His smile disappeared. "Oh. Well, take a seat, Harry. There's something I have to explain to you and Hermione."

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Hermione looked between Harry and Sirius anxiously as they took respective seats next to her and Remus. The tension between them could be cut with a knife, but Harry no longer seemed to be angry, just uncomfortable. Sirius' haunted gaze was now focused entirely on Remus. Hermione put her quill down and sat back, turning to Remus with an inquisitive expression. His lesson on Arithmancy had been quite enjoyable so far; he was a kind and patient teacher, and he laughed often at the errors presented in her makeshift textbook. Now, however, he didn't seem like he was going to laugh ever again.

"You probably don't know..." Remus began, and he frowned, shaking his head. He bit his lip and took a couple of breaths, clearly unwilling to continue. Sirius placed a comforting hand on Remus' shoulder, giving him a little nod of encouragement. Remus took another breath. "Well, the simple fact of the matter is this: I'm a werewolf."

Hermione exchanged a blank glance with Harry. "A werewolf?" Hermione repeated with faint disbelief. "But you can't be a werewolf!"

"Why not?" asked Remus, clearly taken aback.

"Well - because - because..." Hermione trailed off uncertainly. Remus didn't look like a werewolf from the children's stories she had read; he wasn't hairy and slavering, for one, and he had normal teeth instead of fangs. Still, she supposed anything was possible in the magical world. If Sirius could turn into a dog, why couldn't Remus also turn into a wolf?

Remus' brow creased, and he looked at Hermione strangely for a moment before continuing. "I don't know how much you two know about werewolves in the magical world. I know some of the Muggle stories, and not all of them true. I do turn into a wolf during the full moon. During that time I'm able to infect other people with my lycanthropy - if I bite them while I'm in wolf form, they'll also become werewolves." He held up the vial, sloshing around its steaming amber liquid. "The Wolfsbane Potion that Snape gave me allows me to keep control of my mind. Without it, I turn into an animal whose only instinct is to bite and kill and destroy; with it, I turn into an animal whose mind is controlled by my human self."

"Like an Animagus," said Harry, his eyes darting to Sirius.

"Yes," said Remus, sounding surprised. "Yes, like an Animagus, except that I cannot transform at will. I'm cursed to transform during the full moon."

"So lycanthropy is a curse?" Hermione asked, frowning in puzzlement. She eyed Remus warily. "I thought it was like a...a virus."

Remus was clearly taken off his guard. "I suppose it's - it's more like that," he said. "It's not a curse in the sense that it can be removed by some counter-spell or a simple 'Finite'. It's an illness. There's no cure - there's only a treatment." He nodded toward Snape's potion.

"It's like AIDS," said Hermione, catching Harry's eye, and she felt ill and guilty all at once. "Oh, that's terrible. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right," said Remus, and he smiled wryly. "I've had people react to me in worse ways."

An awkward silence descended upon the room. Remus offered to make tea, to which everyone nodded their assent. Hermione chewed her lip and attempted to study some of the notes she'd taken, but the numbers and words swam before her on the parchment. She wondered what a live werewolf transformation actually looked like, and she recalled Dumbledore's visit to the Burrow. He'd said that Remus had to go to Hogwarts while he was ill - while he was transforming during the full moon. It was probably a dangerous process, and a painful one. As Remus returned, Hermione looked at her new teacher with a newfound respect.

When everyone had sat in silence for a while and taken a few sips of tea, Sirius cleared his throat. "Harry, there's something you should know."

Hermione glanced at Harry and began to gather her parchment.

"No, Hermione, you should stay," said Sirius unexpectedly, shooting a quick glance at Remus. Hermione sat back down, surprised.

Sirius looked Harry directly in the eye before beginning. "Harry, shortly before you were born, your parents went into hiding from Voldemort using something called the Fidelius Charm. The way the Charm works is...well...basically, a secret - such as your parents' location - is hidden inside a single living soul called the Secret-Keeper. No one can know the secret unless the Secret-Keeper tells him or her directly." He closed his eyes. "Your parents asked me to be their Secret-Keeper, but I...I told them to use Peter instead."

Sirius' breath caught in his throat. "Everyone knew that James and I were best friends, and so I thought Voldemort would come after me if he wanted to find out where your parents were hiding. I never thought that Voldemort would suspect Peter. It was the perfect plan...the perfect ruse..." He opened his eyes, and Harry saw that they were glittering with tears. "We knew that someone had been spying on Lily and James for Voldemort, but we didn't know it was Peter." He paused. His hands were trembling.

Harry looked as if he'd swallowed something extremely bitter. He barely noticed Hermione's hand reaching for his and grasping it tightly. "Why are you telling me this?" he whispered.

Sirius took a shaky breath. "Wait. Please. Hear me out." He flinched as Remus placed a hand on his shoulder.

Harry nodded jerkily, staring down at his lap.

"When I found out what Peter had done, I was...I lost control." Sirius' fists clenched, and his voice became strained. "I went after him, determined to have my revenge. I cornered him in the street, and before I could denounce him to the world, he accused me of betraying Lily and James and blew up the street using a hidden wand. Then he cut off his finger, transformed into a rat - he's an Animagus - and disappeared." Sirius looked at Harry, his face a mask of grief. "Everyone thought that I was the Secret-Keeper. The Ministry threw me into Azkaban without a trial, and I was too far gone to even ask for one. I stayed there for years until I heard how the Death Eaters had started to come back. There were rumors that you were a Squib, that you'd never attended Hogwarts....That was when I realized how much time I'd wasted. Fourteen years when I could've been taking care of you, giving you the knowledge and the life that you should have received...." Sirius bowed his head, his breath hitching.

The color had drained out of Harry's face, and he nearly crushed Hermione's fingers as he tightened his grip on her hand. She made a small noise of protest, and he let go, standing suddenly. "I need some air," he said, walking slowly toward the kitchen as if in a trance. Hermione followed him anxiously, sparing a sympathetic look toward Remus and Sirius. Sirius' shoulders were shaking, and he held his face in his hands. Remus was squeezing his shoulder gently.

Hermione shivered as an icy wind hit her face. Next to her, Harry sucked in a huge breath of air, staring up at the black sky.

Hermione touched his shoulder gently. "Harry," she said softly.

Harry blinked rapidly, turning his face away. "Why did he tell me?" he whispered. "What good does it do, knowing about all of that?" He sucked in another breath. "It doesn't change anything. It doesn't make things better."

"Harry..." said Hermione tentatively. "Harry, you know what he wants, right?" She grasped his hand briefly, waiting until he'd met her gaze. "He - he wants your forgiveness. He feels horribly guilty about the past, especially the parts involving you. He's trying to make it up to you."

Harry sucked in another breath, more slowly than he had before, and nodded to show that he understood. Hermione hovered beside him for a moment more, and then went back into the house, shutting the door behind her.

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The large grey rat nestled in the pantry of the Burrow nursed its missing toe, then scurried along the shelves and into the kitchen proper. He froze when he heard soft footsteps coming toward him, barely managing to hide in a corner as his old best friends seated themselves at the table. Drat! Why were they still awake? It was the middle of the night, and the only chance he had to complete this mission! He suppressed the urge to jump in recognition as his friends began speaking.

"Can't sleep, Sirius?" Remus asked softly.

Sirius shook his head, the light of the almost-full moon catching the hair that fell into his eyes. "Nightmares."

"I'd brew you some Dreamless Sleep, but I'm afraid I left all of the ingredients in the Muggle flat," said Remus wryly.

"It's all right, Moony," said Sirius, looking out the window. "Full moon tomorrow," he said wistfully. "I wish Prongs were here."

The rat held himself perfectly still, resisting the urge to laugh - or squeak - hysterically with guilt at the mention of James Potter.

"Harry's grown up well," said Remus.

"Yeah," said Sirius, his voice catching. "He has."

They sat in silence, disturbed only by Remus' nervous fingers, tapping on the table. Sirius placed his hand over Remus', and the fingers stilled.

The rat's heartbeat sped up, and he quelled the urge to scrabble impatiently along the walls. They would surely catch him that way. But he needed to transform, needed to complete the task that his mater had given him....time was running out....

"We should go to bed," Remus said to Sirius, and the rat bit back a triumphant squeal. "We've got a long day tomorrow."

"Don't you mean you've got a long day tomorrow, Professor Lupin?" Sirius teased, standing.

"Oh, shut it, Padfoot," replied Remus without much heat. "Come on."

Anxiety clawed at the rat's heart as he listened to his friends patter upstairs. He waited for an agonizingly long hour before venturing out into the kitchen and quickly making his way up the staircase to the first landing. In half a minute, he'd transformed from a rat to a short, balding, wheezy man who quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm and Lightening Charm on himself. He pointed his wand at the door whose sign said "Bill's Room," whispered "Alohomora," and paused, looking down at the restless form of Sirius Black, whose mouth opened in a silent scream. Pity and guilt rose in his heart, and he looked away as he cast a Relaxation Charm on his former friend. Sirius stopped moving, his breathing evening out, and with nine trembling fingers, the wheezy man took a flask out of his tattered robes and pointed his wand at Sirius' head.

"Accio Sirius' hair," he whispered, and a few strands of Sirius' fine black hair fell into the palm of the rat's hand. He quickly dumped them into the flask and stoppered it, sneaking out of the room and relocking the door before transforming back into a rat and going up two more landings. This time, he stopped in front of a door whose lopsided sign said "Gred and Forge's Room," transformed back into a man, and again unlocked the door.

Remus Lupin was curled up tightly, his body tense even in sleep. The balding man bit down hard on his lip and cast a Relaxation Charm on Remus, letting out a sigh of relief as Remus' body uncoiled slowly. With more confidence this time, he pulled out a new flask, whispered "Accio Remus' hair," and caught the greyish-brown strands that in the moonlight looked at turns silver and gold. Stoppering the flask, the man walked out of the room, relocked the door, and transformed back into a rat.

The rat paused on the staircase, looking upward toward the top floor. Dare he risk it? Sniffing cautiously, he hesitated for a moment before creeping up the long staircase until he reached the topmost landing, where a door bore the sign "Ronald's Room." He transformed back into a man and murmured a quick "Alohomora," frowning when he heard nothing click. The door was unlocked, then. Turning the doorknob slowly, he stepped into the room that had been his hiding place for so many years and froze as a form near the far wall stirred. He quickly and silently cast a Relaxation Charm, waited until the form was still, and crossed the room slowly to stare down at the son of his late former friend, the friend he had betrayed so soullessly to his master.

Remorse warred with awe as the moonlight illuminated the lightning bolt scar splitting the boy's forehead in two. He nearly squeaked in surprise as he looked down at the boy's face, thinking for a moment that his former friend had come back to life. With a trembling hand, he reached out a dirty hand to brush the top of the boy's head, letting the soft, unruly locks run through his fingers, and then, with a shuddering gasp, he turned around and exited the room, barely remembering to close the door before he transformed back into a rat.

The mission accomplished, the rat scampered down the stairs and across the kitchen floor, squeezing itself into a corner and running between the walls until it reached the outside. Shivering in the cold winter air, he ran a good distance away from the house before transforming back into a man, finally disappearing with a loud crack whose sound was swallowed by the howling winds.

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