Another Prisoner, Another Professor

Everyone but Harry has left to go on their last visit to Hogsmeade before the holidays.

"Harry, Harry, are you doing homework?"

Harry looked up to see Colin Creevey, bright-eyed and bouncing slightly in front of the common room fireplace. "It's just...stuff," he mumbled, looking away and turning the page.

"What sort of stuff? Can I help? I take the best notes of all the second-years, you can ask any of them. You can ask Ginny if you want, she borrowed my notes from Charms." Colin smiled widely and bounced a little more. It was beyond Harry how a person could be so constantly energetic and enthusiastic.

"It's stuff for Hagrid," Harry said. "His hippogriff is going to have a hearing - I told him I'd help him with the defense. It's really boring. You wouldn't like it."

Harry had gone with Ron and Hermione earlier that morning to see Hagrid, who was in tears. He had received a letter saying that although Dumbledore had convinced the school governors that Hagrid hadn't been responsible for Buckbeak cutting Malfoy's arm, the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures was taking over the matter. The name of the committee didn't give Harry much hope, but he'd promised to research past hippogriff cases and had gone to the library while Ron and Hermione went to Hogsmeade. Over the past few months, he thought, he might have spent almost as much time in the library as he did in his first year when he was searching for information about Nicolas Flamel.

Colin's eyes grew even brighter, if that were possible. "The hippogriff that cut Draco Malfoy?"

"Yeah, that one. Buckbeak."

"I hate Malfoy," said Colin. "He says all sorts of mean things about you. Plus he's mean to Neville. I like Neville a lot, don't you, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said. The thought of Neville made him smile a little in spite of himself. "I do."

Before he knew it, Colin had sat down next to him and started flipping through indexes. "Oh, is this the history of other hippogriff hearings? Harry, look, it says that a hippogriff got off in 1972! That's good news, isn't it, Harry? I think Buckbeak can get off if we work hard enough and come up with a good defense. You'll save him, won't you, Harry? Harry - there's a piece of paper - "

Before Colin could finish his sentence, a crumpled-up piece of paper had zoomed through the air and hit Harry on the side of his head. He picked it up and flattened it out.

Harry - Stained-glass window of Odelia the Odious, fourth floor, as soon as you can. Love, not Remus Lupin.

"Oooh, Harry, what is it?"

"I've got to go," Harry said, pushing back his chair. "I'm not sure when I'll be back - you don't have to keep working on this if you don't want to."

"Oh, I do want to! These are great books, I know I can find a lot of stuff in here. I'll take really great notes for you..."

As Harry climbed out of the portrait hole, he took his wand out of his pocket and held it out in front of him.

The east corridor on the fourth floor, where the window of Odelia the Odious was located, was completely deserted. Just as Harry was about to turn around and go back, he heard a melodramatically low voice coming from the end of the corridor. "Harrrrrry Pottttttter..."

"Peeves?" Harry said. "If that's you, I'll go and get the Bloody Baron - "

"Did you hear that, Fred?" said George, stepping out from just around the corner. "He thought we were Peeves!"

"You wound us to the quick, Harry," Fred said, following George. "We have subtlety. We have nuance. Peeves has loud noises and things dropping from the ceiling."

"So do you," said Harry, lowering his wand.

"Yes, but ours are the work of master craftsmen," replied George. "Anyway, enough about that. We are here, Harry, to bestow onto you the most brilliant piece of parchment in the entire history of the world. Fred?"

Fred reached into his pocket and took out a yellowing parchment, creased and folded several times over. As far as Harry could tell, it was blank. "This," said Fred, "is what has made our years at Hogwarts not only bearable but enjoyable. It is due to this piece of parchment that we were able to spectacularly execute the Dead Frog Hoax of 1989, the Pulsating Pus Prank of 1990, and the Supreme Slytherin Stakeout of 1992."

"Our three greatest accomplishments to date," George added. He took the parchment from Fred, unfolded it, and tapped it with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

From the center of the parchment, lines and dots began to appear, spreading outward like a spilled drop of ink. At the top of the page was written:

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

"Who are they?" Harry asked, studying the parchment.

"No idea," said Fred. "Besides utter geniuses, of course. We stole it out of Filch's office, he'd confiscated it from someone else. You see that?"

He pointed to a dot labeled "Harry Potter", next to two other dots labeled "Fred Weasley" and "George Weasley".

"It's a map of the whole school, including where everyone is. See, look, there's Snape walking out of the library."

The dot labeled "Severus Snape" was indeed leaving the library, and turning in the direction of the stairs.

"Good," said George, watching the dot. "I was worried he was going to come over this way. Anyway, Fred and I have decided that the time has come for this most beloved of maps to change hands."

"We always thought we'd give it to Ron," Fred added, "but you need it more than he does."

"Don't you need it anymore?" Harry asked.

"Nah," said George. "We know everything about this school already. And besides - " he paused meaningfully " - we have signed permission slips for Hogsmeade."

It took a split second for it to sink in. "Hermione's going to kill you when she finds out about this," Harry said.

"Doesn't matter, she wants to kill us anyway. If she does kill us, at least we'll have fully capitalized on our last days."

"Which reminds me," Fred interjected. "We have to meet Lee in about five minutes we want to pull off the Ultimate Treacle Trick of 1993."

"Right. We'll make this quick." George pointed to several places on the map. "These are all the secret exits out of the school. Don't bother with any of them, some of them used to work but this year they've all been blocked off. Filch must have finally found them or something. Your best chance is to go by floo powder from this classroom here." He pointed to a small room on the third floor. "No one uses it anymore, but the fireplace is still on the Floo Network. We pinched some floo powder from McGonagall's office - " Fred handed Harry a small clay jar with a cork top - "but we used most of it already to sneak out for dungbombs last month. You've got enough to get to Hogsmeade and back, but that's all. Say 'Honeydukes cellar' when you step into the fireplace and 'Room 314' to get back. Oh, and about the map - once you're done looking at it, tap it with your wand and say 'Mischief managed' and it'll turn blank again. Got all that?"

"Honeydukes cellar, Room 314, mischief managed," Harry repeated.

"Best of luck, then," said Fred. He winked. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do."

Room 314 was very cobwebby, with dusty desks standing on wrought iron legs. The fireplace looked as though it hadn't been cleaned in several decades. There was one charred log; Harry pointed his wand at it and said, "Incendio."

Almost at once, the fire began to blaze. Harry opened the jar and threw some floo powder on the fire. Fred and George were right; there was only enough left for him to get back. "Honeydukes cellar," he said as he stepped into the green flames.

Harry had never liked traveling by floo powder, but compared to the time he had used it to go from the Burrow to Knockturn Alley, this trip was very short. He came out at the other end dusty and slightly nauseous, squinting in the dim light. Overhead he could hear footsteps and voices. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that he had ended up at the right place; the room was full of crates and boxes, with names like Acid Pops and Peppermint Toads painted on the sides. There was a staircase directly ahead of the fireplace. He stood up, brushed himself off, climbed the steps and cautiously opened the door at the top.

No one noticed him at all. The shop was packed with students, chatting happily to each other and taking boxes of sweets off the shelves. Harry had never seen so many wonderful sweets in one room before. He was just about to investigate some Fizzing Whizbees when he heard a voice shriek, "Harry!"

Hermione was right behind him, looking positively enraged. "I can't believe it," she hissed, grabbing his arm. "Lupin's still in Scotland, you haven't got a permission slip - "

"Give him a break, Hermione," said Ron, who was chewing on something purple. He gave Harry a violet-toothed grin. "Lupin's not going to burst into a sweet shop on the off chance that Harry's there. Harry can't spend every second inside school, he'll go mental." He looked at Harry curiously. "How did you get here, anyway?"

"Fred and George," said Harry. Hermione groaned. "There's this map - " He explained about the Marauder's Map and the fireplace in Room 314.

"That's brilliant," Ron breathed. "Think of all the things we can use that map for. No wonder Fred and George almost never got caught. Just think, Hermione, you can sneak off to the Restricted Section in the middle of the night and know the teachers won't be there - "

"I will not," said Hermione, sniffing. "Harry has to turn it in."

"Turn it in!" Ron exclaimed, aghast.

"Yes, turn it in. How is this any different from Riddle's diary? It has a mind of its own and we don't know who made it. It could be dangerous - "

"Nothing's happened to Fred and George," said Ron, chewing on the last of the purple sweet as he spoke. "If it starts making Harry do things, we'll turn it in right away. You're not going to tell McGonagall, are you?"

Hermione swallowed. Harry could almost see the thoughts running through her head. "Well...if the map is really just a map...and if this is the only time Harry goes to Hogsmeade without permission - "

"I've got permission," said Harry. "Remember? McGonagall told me I had permission from someplace but I still couldn't go because of Lupin, or something like that." He had no idea where the permission had come from; surely Uncle Vernon hadn't had a sudden change of heart. Had it been from Dumbledore? Dumbledore had been the one who secretly gave him his father's cloak...

"Oh, all right," said Hermione. "But if you get in trouble over this, just remember that I told you - "

"Yeah, he'll remember," said Ron. "Now come on, let's show him the Jelly Slugs."

Harry left Honeydukes with an enormous bag of sweets; seeing as he hadn't brought any money with him, he borrowed some from Hermione, promising to pay her back once they returned to school. The wind outside was bitterly cold. The freezing rain had turned into snow, and although it covered the village in a very picturesque sort of way, they were all anxious to get inside. "Let's go to the Three Broomsticks," said Ron, pulling his scarf around his face.

The Three Broomsticks was a cheery sort of pub, filled with people and warmed by a roaring fire. Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to get one of the last two tables, right next to the Christmas tree. "I thought you were going to work on Buckbeak's defense," said Hermione to Harry while Ron was waiting in line to get them all butterbeers.

"I did," Harry said, rubbing in end of his thawing nose. "I got books out from the library and I started taking notes. Colin Creevey's working on it now."

"Harry, you can't make Colin do your work for you!"

"I didn't!" Harry protested, as Ron returned with three steaming tankards. "He wanted to do it, he practically begged me. You know how he is."

"Colin would fly to the moon if Harry said he'd fancy having a bit of moon rock," Ron agreed. "And he'd take pictures of the whole thing."

Harry lifted his tankard to take a sip, but just as he was about to do so he looked up and dropped the tankard on the edge of the table, where it fell to the floor.

Professor McGonagall was coming in through the door, followed by Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, and, to Harry's surprise, Cornelius Fudge. The only free table was the one on the other side of the Christmas tree from theirs. Harry dived under the table as Hermione held out her wand and moved the tree so that it blocked their table from view. "Just stay down there and don't move," Ron whispered. "They're coming this way."

From under the table, Harry could see Hagrid's enormous boots, McGonagall's small black heels, Fudge's brown lace-ups and Flitwick's tiny blue shoes walking toward the table. Flitwick was so short that Harry could see up to his chest; if Flitwick dropped something on the floor and bent over to pick it up, it would be over, he would be caught -

A pair of glittery turquoise heels appeared just as the teachers and Fudge were sitting down. "You've got the very last of my cocktail umbrellas, Filius," said a cheerful female voice. Harry could hear the sounds of glasses and tankards being set down on the table.

"Oh, a yellow one!" came Flitwick's squeaky voice. "How lovely. I think I'll save it and give it to my granddaughter for her dollhouse."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, come and join us," said Fudge. "That is, if you're not too busy..."

"Oh no, I think Kitty and Ellen have got things under control," said the woman called Rosmerta. "One minute, I'll just go back and grab myself a butterbeer..." The sparkling heels turned away and headed for the bar.

"Really, Cornelius," said McGonagall, sounding faintly amused. "Do your political opponents know you behave flirtatiously toward barmaids?"

"That's ridiculous, Minerva," retorted Fudge's flustered voice. Harry had a feeling he was turning red. "Rosmerta and I have known each other for years. And besides, even if I did - er - have any romantic inclinations towards her, Flora passed away five years ago."

"Hush," Flitwick whispered. "She's coming back!"

The glittery heels returned and Rosmerta sat down between Hagrid and Fudge. "I'm dying to hear everything about what happened with Lupin in Edinburgh, Minister," she said, slipping off her shoes under the table. "I would have thought you'd be there today."

"I was, m'dear, this morning," Fudge said. "The situation seems under control at the moment, so I thought I'd see how things were doing here."

"Those dementors of yours are keeping people out of my pub, that's how things are doing here," Rosmerta retorted. "There's hardly a soul in here after six o'clock."

"Very sorry, Rosmerta, but it can't be helped," said Fudge. "If Lupin attacked in Hogsmeade, your pub might have no business at all."

"So, who was it who saw him?" Rosmerta asked.

"You know I can't tell you that, m'dear. Confidential Ministry matter."

"Doesn't matter," said Rosmerta. She sounded very self-satisfied. "I already know it was Elphias Doge."

Fudge sounded shocked. "Rosmerta!"

"Oh, don't worry," Rosmerta replied. "I haven't told anyone. I only know because he's Kitty's great-uncle. It was her grandmother he was visiting there."

"Poor bloke," said Fudge. "Horrible shock for him. He's all right now, went home to rest in bed with a hot water bottle and some brandy."

"He'll be all righ'," said Hagrid. "Faced down three Death Eaters during the war once, came out wi'out a scratch."

"I don't suppose Sirius is taking it well," said Rosmerta. Harry wrinkled his forehead. Surely this Rosmerta didn't know that Lupin was Black's boggart... "I was hoping he'd be here with you. I haven't seen him since he came back to Britain."

"I asked him teh come," Hagrid said, setting down what sounded like an enormous tankard with a loud thunk. "Said he 'ad a 'eadache. Been havin' them all year, from the sound of it. Can't be easy on 'im. Still, he..." Hagrid's voice suddenly sounded as though he were trying not to cry. "He tol' me he'd heard abou' Buckbeak, said he'd try an' pull a few strings if he could, knows some people wi' connections to the committee..."

"There, there, Hagrid," said McGonagall. "I'm sure everything will be fine. Have some more mead." There was a long slurping noise.

"Very unfortunate for the poor man," said Fudge. "I always liked him, even if he did do foolish things like start a school for werewolves - "

"Excuse me," said Flitwick. His voice sounded unusually cold. "I happen to think a school for werewolves was a very good idea. In fact, I almost took a sabbatical from Hogwarts and taught there."

"You didn't!" Rosmerta gasped.

"I did. I even went to Germany and visited it. This was after Sirius had stopped teaching there and gone abroad. It's a very well-run institution with an excellent staff. I only gave up my sabbatical because that was the year there was the Uric's Fever epidemic on the continent."

"I'm surprised it's still running," said Rosmerta. "You'd think the bad publicity that came from having Lupin as a teacher would have shut it down."

"Not as long as there are still parents who want their werewolf children educated," said Flitwick.

Currently serving a life sentence in Azkaban, Lupin previously taught Defense Against the Dark Arts at The Schwartz Academy for Lycanthropic Wizards in Berlin...

"I don't blame Sirius for giving it up and taking off for Africa," Rosmerta said. "Still, I've always wondered...why didn't he take Harry Potter with him? He is his godfather, isn't he?"

Harry froze. His godfather...

"Yeah," said Hagrid. "O' course he is, James's best friend and all. S'ppose he had his reasons. Can't drag a little boy all over th' world..."

"But there was no reason for him to take that job," Rosmerta pressed. "He could have taken something more stable - he could have not worked at all, given his money. I can't understand how anyone could leave a little boy to live with those horrible relatives Minerva's told me about. I've got a goddaughter, and I'd fight tooth and nail before I'd let her live with people like that."

"S'ppose he had his reasons," Hagrid said again, but his voice didn't sound quite as convinced this time. Harry felt sick to his stomach. Black had been his father's best friend...all those years with the Dursleys, he could have been living with Black...but for some reason, Black hadn't wanted him...he'd left him there, to be beaten up by Dudley and sleep in a cupboard under the stairs...

"I miss the four of them," said Rosmerta. "I used to have them in here all the time when they were at school, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Such a shame what happened to poor Peter..."

"That was one of the saddest funerals I ever attended," said McGonagall. "And there were plenty of sad ones during the war. I was at the wake as well - the undertaker had tried to ease his face, but you could still see traces of the shock he must have felt. He was never any good at dueling, the poor boy, but - but he tried his best against Lupin anyway...and that's all anyone can ask, for a person to try their best..." There were tears in her voice, followed by the sound of her blowing her nose.

"Such an awful coincidence," said Rosmerta. "Peter being there when Remus blew up that entire street full of people, I mean."

Fudge's voice was low. "It wasn't a coincidence."

There was a silence. "What?"

"I'm only telling you this because it's a matter of public record, even if it wasn't publicized at the time," said Fudge. "Pettigrew had gone there to find Lupin. It's horrible enough that Lupin killed thirteen people, but he did worse than that, he betrayed his friends. He was the Secret-Keeper for Lily and James Potter."

"The what?"

"The Potters found out that You-Know-Who was after them," said Fudge. "They decided to go into hiding. They used something called the Fidelius Charm - I'm not entirely certain how it works - "

"A secret must be magically hidden inside of a single person," said Flitwick. "Unless the Secret-Keeper divulges the secret, it remains hidden forever. If it hadn't been divulged, You-Know-Who would have never found James and Lily, no matter how hard he looked."

"And Lupin was their Secret-Keeper," said Fudge. "The Potters originally wanted Black, but he'd already agreed to be the Secret-Keeper for his cousin Andromeda and her family - they'd just gone into hiding as well. It's too dangerous, having one person holding two secrets that important. So Lily and James opted for Lupin instead. They didn't know he'd become a Death Eater - perhaps they should have, but they didn't - "

"There was no reason for them to think he'd become a Death Eater," said Flitwick. "He'd been their friend for years, he was helping them fight against You-Know-Who. Just because someone's a werewolf - "

"Well, we'll agree to disagree," said Fudge. "Lupin betrayed the Potters to You-Know-Who. Sirius was in Germany, he didn't find out until after it was all over - "

"He lent me his bike," said Hagrid suddenly. "Two days before it all 'appened he lent me that flying motorbike o' his and went off to Berlin. They were back an' forth between Britain an' Germany all the time, those two. Dumbledore 'ad me deliverin' weapons all over England, I needed the bike teh carry 'em all. The minute I 'eard what 'appened to Lily and James, I flew straight over to Godric's 'Ollow, saw what was left of the 'ouse. Lupin was there. The filthy cowardly werewolf traitor had the nerve teh be there!"

"Keep your voice down," said McGonagall.

"He'd picked up Harry," Hagrid continued. "Had 'im picked up and wrapped inna blanket. He said, 'Here, give me Sirius's motorbike, I'll take Harry to him. Sirius is his godfather. You can apparate, I'll take Harry to Germany. He'll be safer there.' Safer! Lupin prob'ly woulda eaten him for a snack!"

Even Flitwick did not protest this.

"But no, I 'ad orders from Dumbledore to bring Harry to 'im. Told 'im I was sorry, I 'ad to do it, Sirius could get Harry from Dumbledore later. I ACTUALLY APOLOGIZED TO 'IM!"

"Hagrid!" said Fudge. "People are starting to stare."

"An' I told him I knew 'ow he must feel, with Lily and James dead! An' he started cryin'! The dirty son of a - "

"Hagrid," Rosmerta whispered. "We all understand, but please."

Hagrid began to sob.

"And before the Ministry could catch up with him, Peter Pettigrew had," said Fudge. "People who were there say he was trembling as he did it - he didn't even fight Lupin at first, he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over to the side of the street and started talking to him. Maybe he thought he could talk sense into him, I don't know. But it was no good, Lupin pulled out his wand and blew up the whole street. It's amazing we had Pettigrew's body to bury, we only ever found little bits of some of the Muggles. His poor mother."

No one spoke.

"Well, I'm sorry we got into such a dismal conversation, Rosmerta, m'dear," Fudge said. "I have to leave. I'm having dinner with Dumbledore in about half an hour."

"It was good to see you anyway," said Rosmerta, slipping her shoes on again.

"We'll go with you, Cornelius," Flitwick said. "It's nearly time for the students to be coming back for dinner. Thank you very much for the umbrella, Rosmerta."

One by one, the teachers pushed in their chairs and left, Fudge following them. Rosmerta's sparkling turquoise shoes walked back to the bar. Harry heard the door close.

He rose from under the table, shaking as he sat down. Ron and Hermione looked at him. No one said a word.