The Marauders and the Prisoner of Azkaban

"So," said Remus. "Are we all ready for Chapter Four?"

"It depends. There better be no more of the Knight Bus," said Peter.

"My son better make good choices," said James.

"I better not be murderer," said Sirius grumpily.

Remus thought it was probable that the Knight Bus wouldn't be back. He assumed that Harry would make some good choices, but not all of his choices would be good, because after all, he was James' son. Though he thought it would be very unlikely that Sirius wasn't mentioned as a murderer anymore.

"Er...well, we'll just read on anyway," said Remus quickly. "Chapter Four. The Leaky Cauldron"

It took Harry several days to get used to his strange new freedom. Never before had he been able to get up whenever he wanted or eat whatever he fancied.

"Never before?" James asked, thunderstruck. "Never before?! Son! Son! Listen to me!"

"He can't hear you, Prongs," Remus reminded him.

James ignored him and continued pointlessly talking to the book. "Enjoy your freedom! Get revenge on those Dursleys! Yeah!"

He could even go wherever he pleased, as long as it was in Diagon Alley, and as this long cobbled street was packed with the most fascinating wizarding shops in the world, Harry felt no desire to break his word to Fudge and stray back into the Muggle world.

Harry ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where he liked watching the other guests: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; wild-looking warlocks, raucous dwarfs; and once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woolen balaclava.

Sirius had actually started laughing, even though the above paragraph wasn't tremendously funny. James didn't care though.

"See, Padfoot, that's right! Have fun and laugh with us!"

After breakfast Harry would go out into the backyard, take out his wand, tap the third brick from the left above the trash bin, and stand back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened into the wall.

Harry spent the long sunny days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly colored umbrellas outside cafes, where his fellow diners were showing one another their purchases ("it's a lunascope, old boy- no more messing around with moon charts, see?")

"Hey, Moony, why don't you get yourself one of those?" asked Sirius, who seemed to be back in a good enough mood to start making more werewolf jokes to annoy Remus.

"I don't want one of those," said Remus. "Even without moon charts, I can tell you about the moon and when it will be full."

"So when's that?" Sirius asked in mock idiocy.

"Oh, Padfoot, don't start that again."

Or else discussing the case of Sirius Black ("personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until he's back in Azkaban").

"But- but-" It appeared Sirius was slowly returning to his grumpy mood. "I love all the little children! I don't want to hurt them!"

"Well it seems that you want to now," said Peter.

James smacked Peter in the back of the head, and Remus said, "Shhhh!" loudly.

"Oh, wow, thanks Wormtail, that helps a lot," said Sirius sarcastically.

"Come on, Padfoot...I mean, assuming that this is a future book, you can still change all this," Peter mentioned

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure I can. If I ever know what possessed me into becoming a murderer."

"Well then, let's keep reading and maybe you'll find out!" James suggested.

Harry didn't have to do his homework under the blankets by flashlight anymore; now he could sit in the bright sunshine outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, finishing all his essays with occasional help from Florean Fortescue himself, who, apart from knowing a great deal about medieval witch burnings, gave Harry free sundaes every half an hour.

"All right! That's what I'm talking about!" said Peter. "I want free sundaes when I'm writing essays!"

"No you don't," snapped Sirius. "I'm sure you'd scare all the children and teenage girls yourself by dribbling it all over your face and your essay and everything."

"I do not dribble on myself!" Peter retorted.

"That's what you think."

"Because it's true! Prongs...Moony.... you know I don't dribble on myself, right?"

James started acting as if his glasses had fogged up and he really needed to clean them by rubbing them on his shirt violently, and Remus began looking as if he was very curious about the art of the book jacket.

"...Right?" Peter asked again.

James and Remus still made no reply, and Remus began reading again.

Once Harry had refilled his moneybag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from his vault at Gringotts, he had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. He had to keep reminding himself that he had five years to go at Hogwarts, and how it would feel to ask the Dursleys for money for spellbooks, to stop himself from buying a handsome set of solid gold Gobstones (a wizarding game rather like marbles, in which the stones squirt a nasty-smelling liquid into the other player's face when they lose a point). He was sorely tempted, too, by the perfect moving model of the galaxy in a large glass ball, which would have meant he'd never had to take another Astronomy lesson.

"Yeah, Harry, don't go wasting your money on that stuff, even if it does mean that you could skive off Astronomy! You can still just copy off your smart friend," James told him.

Remus coughed. "Oh, you mean like what you do to me?"

"Er...no, no, this is completely different! I'm telling Harry that he should save his money for the important things that will really help him with his studies!" James quickly added.

But the thing that tested Harry's resolution most appeared in his favorite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, a week after he'd arrive at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Woah! What is it?!" James asked excitedly. "Go buy it, Harry! Go buy it if you want it!"

"Saving money for the important things that will really help with studies, are we?" asked Remus, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes!" said James. "This is essential! Everyone knows that Harry's studies will only be good if he gets a...if he gets a...well, whatever it is that he wants to buy...."

Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, Harry edged his way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until he glimpsed a newly erected podium, on which was mounted the most magnificent broom he had ever seen in his life.

"Really?" said James weakly.

"Just come out- prototype-" a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion.

"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Harry, who was swinging off his father's arm.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favorites for the World Cup!"

"Really?" James said again.

A large witch in front of Harry moved, and he was able to read the sign next to the broom:

THE FIREBOLT

This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined, superfine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected birch twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of 150 miles an hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable Braking Charm. Price on request.

"Um...Prongs...you're drooling on Moony and the book," Sirius told him.

"So?" said Peter. "It's not like Moony hasn't gotten drool on himself before, or that you haven't accidentally gotten your dog slobber on him, or-"

"Wormtail!" Sirius yelled. "What's going on with you lately?! Just shut it!"

"Me? You're the one going crazy here!"

"I said, shut it!"

"I...want...that...broom..." James said as if in trance, still not realizing that he was drooling.

"You can't have it," said Remus evenly, trying to ignore the drool flowing from James' mouth onto the book. "It hasn't been invented yet. Er..." The drooling from James' mouth started flowing faster. Remus took one of James' other shirts from the ground that James hadn't bothered to put into the laundry. "Can I borrow this?"

"Must...have...that...broom..." said James again, not aware of Remus using James' spare shirt to wipe the drool off the book and himself.

"Like I said, it's not possible for you to have that broom."

"Wait a minute...why not?" James said, coming out of his trance.

"Because this story takes place years from now, and in the story it's only just come out," said Remus.

"That's no reason to limit my creativity!" said James. "I will write and force them to make it now! And then when they do, I'll be rich for coming up with the idea!"

"Great," said Sirius. "What are you going to do with all that money?"

"I dunno..." said James.

Price on request...Harry didn't like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. He had never wanted anything as much in his whole life- but he had never lost a Quidditch math on his Nimbus Two Thousand, and what was the point in emptying his Gringotts vault for the Firebolt, when he had a very good broom already?

"Because it's a Firebolt!" James said in a strangled sort of yell that ended up being in Remus' ear because James was still close to the book, getting excited every time he saw the word 'Firebolt'.

"Don't mind him," Sirius said to Remus. "He spent a whole day just talking about brooms with me. I think he's gone mental about those."

"Sounds like someone else has gone mental..." Peter muttered quietly so that nobody else could hear.

"What did you say?" Remus asked him.

"I said.... 'Wow, isn't this fascinating? Prongs is so... parental. Let's keep reading'," Peter lied.

Harry didn't ask for the price, but he returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt.

"I would..." said James dreamily.

There were, however, things that Harry needed to buy. He went to the Apothecary to replenish his store of potions ingredients, and as his school robes were now several inches too short in the arm and leg, he visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and bought new ones. Most important of all, he had to buy his new schoolbooks, which would include those for his two new subjects, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.

"Oh no, not Divination," said Remus. "I hate Divination...you'll hate it too, Harry, believe me."

"Harry's not a werewolf," Sirius said. "He's not going to hate those crystal orbs like you do."

"Still don't like it..."

Harry got a surprise as he looked in at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the class that held about a hundred copies of-

"Brooms," James finished.

"Books about swing music," said Remus.

"Clubs to beat the tar out of Snivellus," said Sirius.

"Wanted posters," said Peter.

"Wanted posters?!" thundered Sirius.

"It seemed like it would fit!" said Peter quickly. "I mean, with the circumstances going on in the story..."

Sirius growled at him.

" -The Monster Book of Monsters." Remus finished quickly. "There, see? No wanted posters, don't worry..."

Sirius nodded, but still glared over at Peter. Remus continued reading.

Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.

"Again, that book sounds like a werewolf," Sirius said.

Remus snapped his head up from the book and frowned at Sirius. Sirius immediately began explaining himself.

"I know werewolves aren't green and leathery! You told me already! But look! It sounds like what Prongs and I have to do sometimes to make you stop going crazy!"

Remus sighed, deciding not to argue since there was always the chance that Sirius would start up a screaming fest, and read some more.

Harry pulled his booklist out of his pocket and consulted it for the first time. The Monster Book of Monsters was listed as the required book for Care of Magical Creatures. Now Harry understood why Hagrid had said it would come in useful. He felt relieved; he had been wondering whether Hagrid wanted help with some terrifying new pet.

"Nah," said James. "He just wanted to save my son the trouble of buying it. I guess Hagrid also wants Harry to save his money for the important things! Like Firebolts!"

As Harry entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying toward him.

"Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"

"Yes," said Harry, "I need-"

"Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, brushing Harry aside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage.

"Hang on," said Harry quickly, "I've already got one of those."

"Have you?" A look of enormous relief spread over the manager's face. "Thank heavens for that. I've been bitten five times already this morning-"

"Oh, don't complain," said Remus, pausing in the reading. "I'd gladly have those books bite me five times in the morning. No effects afterward, after all."

"Aww, Moony," said Sirius. "Sorry."

"Yeah," added Peter, hurrying on. "Sorry."

"I'll stop going on about Firebolts if it makes you feel better," suggested James.

"No, that's alright, don't bother apologizing," said Remus. "Nothing you can do, just felt like commenting...er...where were we..."

A loud ripping noise rent the air; two of the Monster Books had seized a third and were pulling it apart.

"Stop it! Stop it!" cried the manager, poking the walking stick through the bars and knocking the books apart. "I'm never stocking them again, never! It's been bedlam! I thought we'd seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility- cost a fortune, and we never found them..."

"Which is exactly why I'm glad I've got my Invisibility Cloak instead," said James.

"Well...is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes," said Harry, looking down his booklist," I need Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky."

"Ah, starting Divination, are you?" said the manager, stripping off his gloves and leading Harry into the back of the shop, where there was a corner devoted to fortune-telling. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul.

"Fortunes become chickens?" Peter asked.

"No, no, it's the homophone. They're using the other one," explained Remus. " 'Foul' as in 'Somebody left the eggs out of the refrigerator too long and they became foul'."

" 'Foul' as in 'Wormtail started to become an idiotic, dimwitted, uncaring foul person'," added Sirius.

"That's not true!" said Peter.

"Here you are," said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down a thick, black-bound book. "Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods- palmistry, crystal balls, bird entrails-"

"Ugh, that's nasty," said James. "You're right, Moony. Harry shouldn't take Divination! How is looking at a bird's insides supposed to tell the future?"

"I've no idea," said Remus. "I didn't take Divination. You are."

But Harry wasn't listening.

"Good," said James. "Harry doesn't need to hear about how he'll be seeing the future by using bird guts..."

His eyes had fallen on another book, which was among a display on a small table: Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming.

"Oh, I wouldn't read that if I were you," said the manager lightly, looking to see what Harry was staring at. "You'll start seeing death omens everywhere. It's enough to frighten anyone to death."

But Harry continued to stare at the front cover of the book; it showed a black dog as large as a bear, with gleaming eyes. It looked oddly familiar...

"It sounds like it looks like Padfoot," said Peter.

"WORMTAIL!"

"I'm just making a point, you know..."

"Calm down," said James, pulling Sirius down.

"I'm sure it really looks nothing like your Animagus form," said Remus. "Plus, we can't see it. Which is why people should stop making assumptions," he added, looking at Peter.

"The manager pressed Unfogging the Future into Harry's hands.

"Anything else?" he said.

"Yeah, how about a Firebolt?" said James.

"They don't sell Firebolts in Flourish and Blotts!" said Sirius. "Even I'm not thick enough to think that."

"But the manager asked if there was anything else he needed...and Harry needs a Firebolt. I need a Firebolt."

"I think you need a new point of interest," said Remus. He reached into his pocket. "Here, have some chocolate."

"Yum! Chocolate!" said James. "D'you think that if I press hard enough, I can make a model of a broom out of chocolate?"

"Erm...no," said Remus. "Why don't you just eat that normally..."

"Yes," said Harry, tearing his eyes away from the dog's and dazedly consulting his booklist. "Er- I need Intermediate Transfiguration and The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three."

Harry emerged from Flourish and Blotts ten minutes later with his new books under his arms and made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, hardly noticing where he was going and bumping into several people.

"Oh no!" said James. "Don't tell me your drunk, son!"

"He's not, he's not!" said Remus.

"If you need to know about people being drunk, just ask Padfoot," said Peter.

"WORMTAIL!" Sirius screamed. "KEEP THIS UP AND I WILL GO GET DRUNK!"

"You know what, you have some chocolate too," said Remus, thrusting some at Peter. "I think it'd do a bit of good if you just kept quiet for a while."

"Moony, you know I don't really mean that stuff..."

He tramped up the stairs to his room, went inside, and tipped his books onto his bed. Somebody had been in to tidy; the windows were open and sun was pouring inside. Harry could hear the buses rolling by in the unseen Muggle street behind him and the sound of the invisible crowd below in Diagon Alley. He caught sight of himself in the mirror over the basin.

"It can't have been a death omen," he told his reflection defiantly. "I was panicking when I saw that thing in Magnolia Crescent...It was probably just a stray dog..."

He raised his hand automatically and tried to make his hair lie flat.

"You're fighting a losing battle there, dear," said his mirror in a wheezy voice.

"Yep," said James. "You better just ruffle it. You'll look cool."

"And Lily still hasn't gone out with you after all those times you've done it," said Sirius.

"Oh, but she will," James replied. "This is the year. I know it."

As the days slipped by, Harry started looking wherever he went for a sign of Ron or Hermione. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Harry met Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, his fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they too were ogling the Firebolt;

"Who wouldn't be?" asked James. "But hands-off, that's for my son, that is."

He also ran into the real Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts.

"Wow, that sounds just like someone," said Sirius. He gave a loud cough that sounded like "Wormtail."

"Don't start thinking that it sounds like me!" said Peter. "I never forget things!"

"Wormtail, what did you have for breakfast yesterday?" Sirius asked.

"Well...I had...I had.... well, I'm almost positive that I had eggs!"

"Were they foul like you are?"

"Don't start calling me names!"

"Don't start calling me a murderer."

"But you are."

"I'm not!"

"Padfoot, be quiet," said Remus. "Wormtail, stop egging him on."

"Why do we keep talking about eggs?" James asked, though nobody heard him.

"I haven't been egging him on," said Peter.

"Yes you have," said Remus. "You've continued to make comments about his future of being...well..." he glanced hesitantly at Sirius. "A murderer. Not that I'm poking fun of it, or anything," he added quickly to Sirius.

"I'm ignoring that word that starts with an 'M'. Go on though," said Sirius, looking around the ceiling.

"Anyway," Remus continued, looking back at Peter. "D'you mind not commenting on that anymore?"

"Oh, of course not," said Peter.

Harry didn't stop to chat; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother. Harry hoped she never found out that he'd pretended to be Neville while on the run from the Ministry of Magic.

Harry woke up on the last day of the holidays, thinking that he would at least meet Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. He got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where he'd have lunch, when someone yelled his name and he turned.

"Harry! HARRY!"

They were there, both of them, sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor- Ron looking incredibly freckly, Hermione very brown, both waving frantically at him.

"Finally!" said Ron, grinning at Harry as he sat down. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they'd said you'd left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and-"

"I got all my school stuff last week," Harry explained. "And how come you knew I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Bet he's been taking Divination," said Sirius.

"He can't have because you can't start taking it until third year, which they haven't started yet," Remus pointed out.

"At least that means Ron didn't have to find out that Harry was at the Leaky Cauldron by looking at bird guts..." said James.

"Dad," said Ron simply.

Mr. Weasley, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, would of course have heard the whole story of what had happened to Aunt Marge.

"Oh...he could find out that way too..." said Sirius.

"Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?" said Hermione in a very serious voice.

"I didn't mean to," said Harry, while Ron roared with laughter. "I just- lost control."

"It's not funny, Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."

"So am I," admitted Harry. "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested." He looked at Ron. "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" shrugged Ron, still chuckling.

"Yeah, that's a good reason to be let off!" said James.

"Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron Tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"

Hermione nodded, beaming. "Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things."

"Excellent!" said Harry happily. "So, have you got all your new books and stuff?"

"Look at this," said Ron, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it.

"Look at what?" said Peter. "What's that?"

"Perhaps it's a box of Spellotape to shut your mouth up," said Sirius ominously.

"Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books-" He pointed at a large bag under his chair. "What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two."

"What's all that, Hermione?" Harry asked, pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to her."

"Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I?" said Hermione. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Ruins, Muggle Studies-"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" said Ron, rolling his eyes at Harry. "You're Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view," said Hermione earnestly.

"Oh wow, what an overachiever," said Sirius.

"I really pity the amount of work she'll have to handle," said Remus, shaking his head.

"At least my son will have someone smart to copy things off of," said James.

"Let's just hope he doesn't take after you in that area too much," said Remus.

"Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermione?" asked Harry, while Ron sniggered.

"Guess not," said Peter.

Hermione ignored them.

"I've still got ten Galleons," she said, checking her purse. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

"How about a nice book?" said Ron innocently.

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione composedly. "I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig and you've got Errol-"

"I haven't," said Ron. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."

Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.

"See, Wormtail?" said Sirius. "Keep making snide comments, and that's what you're going to look like next time you transform.

"Stop being so mean to the poor little rat!" said Peter. "I bet that Ron just isn't taking good care of him."

"There's a magical creature shop just over there," said Harry, who knew Diagon Alley very well by now. "You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl."

So they paid for their ice cream and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie.

There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise.

"Wow, we're encountering loads of show-offs, aren't we?" said Peter.

Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly,

"Okay, now why would anyone want a ball of fur for a pet?" Sirius asked loudly. "That just doesn't make sense to me. Of all the pets in the world, and you choose to have a furball?!"

-and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

The double ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.

"It's my rat," he told the witch. "He's been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt.

"Maybe the Sphinx gave him nightmares," James said.

"Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

"No! No!" said Peter. "Don't bang him! If he's off-color, the last thing you want is to bang his poor head on the counter and then smack him with your glasses or something!"

"She just means to put him on the counter so she can examine him. She's not going to smack him on the counter and smack him with her spectacles...you take things too literal sometimes..." Remus said.

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better look.

Like nearly everything Ron owned, Scabbers the rat was second hand (he had once belonged to Ron's brother Percy) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.

"Hm," said the witch, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"

"Seventy-five," answered James.

"Really?" said Sirius. "I was thinking more like one hundred and sixty-three."

"Why are you being so mean to it?" Peter asked. "It had a hard time in Egypt, you know."

"Why are you sticking up for a rat that you don't even know?" Sirius asked. "Have you become one with the rats, or something?"

"As a matter of fact, I find rats to be quite interesting," said Peter. "I know you may have all laughed when you saw that this was my Animagus form, but there are many good things about rats! Like-"

"I don't care what good things there are about rats. Moony, just keep reading," Sirius said.

"Dunno," said Ron. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.

"Loads I bet!" Peter said. "Because wizarding rats-"

"Shut it!" said Sirius again. "Are we starting a Rat Festival here? Because if we are, then I'll go get a little cape and tie it tightly around your neck."

"You can be Super Rat," said James. "Side-kick to Secret Pirate Man."

"Yeah! That sound fun!" said Peter.

"And arch enemy to Mega-Murdering Man, because Super Rat wouldn't shut his little mouth!" added Sirius, looking madly at Peter.

"Sirius, be quiet, stop acting rashly," Remus said quietly.

"I'm not acting rashly!" Sirius said.

"Let's get back to the story already!" said James. "I want to know what happens next!"

"Er-" The truth was that Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace of interesting powers. The witch's eyes moved from Scabbers tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she said.

"So rude!" said Peter. "You have to give him credit for living even though his toe is missing!"

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," said Ron defensively.

"Yeah! You tell her!" said Peter.

"I'll tell you something..." Sirius muttered.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the witch. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these-"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs."

"That's right! They are show-offs! With their fancy skipping tricks!" said Peter.

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," said Ron. "How much- OUCH!"

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage,

"It's a giant orange!" said James. "We can call the story 'Ron and the Giant Orange!'"

Sirius snickered.

"Wait!" said James. "Even better it could be the Firebolt in a large orange box! Yes! I bet it's the Firebolt!"

"Or, we could call the story 'James and the Dangerous Obsession with the Firebolt'," Remus suggested.

"My obsession isn't dangerous!" James said. "But that broom is! Do you remember how fast it was supposed to go? I want a Firebolt!"

-landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" cried the witch,

"Why would someone name their Firebolt 'Crookshanks'?" James said.

"Maybe because they didn't name it 'Crookshanks'?" said Peter. "Stop thinking about the Firebolt all the time!"

-but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap-

"Really? Because it certainly doesn't sound like he's as clean as a bar of soap," said Sirius.

-landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.

"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Harry followed.

It took them nearly ten minutes to catch Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"See? I bet Scabbers wishes he could have a Firebolt too!" said James enthusiastically.

Ron stuffed the trembling rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head.

"What was that?"

"It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger," said Harry.

"No, son!" said James. "It was a Firebolt! What do I keep telling you?!"

"Prongs, it's not a Firebolt," said Sirius. "Sorry."

"But oh, if it was!"

"Where's Hermione?"

"Buying a Firebolt instead."

"Merlin..." said Remus. "It's not a Firebolt! Is there anyway we can get your mind off this?"

"Er...I dunno," James said, shrugging.

"Here, Moony, watch this," Sirius whispered. He stood up, went over to the window, and looked out. "Hey! Look! It's Evans!"

"Where?!" asked James, scrambling up, ruffling his hair, and running toward the window so fast that he tripped on one of his shoes that he hadn't put away. He stuck his head out the window. "Evans?"

Sirius gave a very loud bark of laughter. "No, no, she's not there. Just had to get your mind on something else."

James disappointedly removed his head from the window and his hand from his hair, putting it limply back at his side. "Oh..." he said, and walked back to his place where he sat on the ground. Sirius followed him and sat back down as well.

"That was not funny, Padfoot!" said James. "What if it really was Evans?"

"Walking to your house now?" asked Sirius. "Nah. Maybe next year."

"Probably getting her owl-"

They made their way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As they reached it, Hermione came out, but she wasn't carrying an owl.

"I told you!" said James, looking excited with a gleam in his eye. "I told you! I bet she went and bought a Firebolt for Harry! Because she's so nice!"

Remus sighed. "And we're back on the Firebolt talk."

"I don't think she would buy him a Firebolt," said Peter. "I'd sooner cut my finger off than your son get a broom that year."

"And this has nothing to do with the fact that this story takes place about 18 years from now, right?" said Remus.

"I dunno," said Peter.

Her arms were clamped tightly around the enormous ginger cat.

"You bought that monster?" said Ron, his mouth hanging open.

"No, she got him for free," said Peter.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.

"Like a flashlight!" sang James. "All of the other reindeer..."

"Used to laugh and call him names..." added Sirius.

"They never let poor Rudolph..." continued James.

"Give a Firebolt to James," Sirius invented.

"Oh great, now even the reindeer won't give me a Firebolt!" James complained.

"Well at this rate, who would?"

That was a matter of opinion, thought Harry. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermione's arms.

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"He could die," said James. "Rest In Peace, Scabbers..." He looked at Sirius. "Oh...wait...am I offending you by saying that?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

"I wonder why," said Ron sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.

"Yeah, I wonder why," said Peter.

They found Mr. Weasley sitting in the bar, reading the Daily Prophet.

"Harry!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," said Harry as he, Ron, and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley with all their shopping.

Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and Harry saw the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at him.

Sirius began looking intently at the book again.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" he asked.

"No," said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

Remus looked up from the book and at Sirius. "Well...at least you sound like a very clever criminal..."

"Yeah, sure," said Sirius, not looking at Remus and still staring at the book.

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" asked Ron. "It'd be good to get some more money-"

Sirius then started making a face at the book.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."

"No..." Sirius moaned, still transfixed by the book. "Not the Dementors...anything..."

"You shouldn't have murdered those people, then," said Peter.

"JUST SHUT IT! STOP REMINDING ME!"

At that moment Mrs. Weasley entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and the Weasley's youngest child and only girl, Ginny.

Ginny, who had always been very taken with Harry, seemed even more heartily embarrassed than usual when she saw him, perhaps because he had saved her life during their previous year at Hogwarts.

"WOW!" yelled James. "Harry saved her life! He survives curses, he takes on Voldemort-"

Peter flinched slightly.

"-he plays Quidditch, and my son is just too awesome for words! I love him!"

She went very red and muttered "hello" without looking at him. Percy, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he and Harry had never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you."

"Hello, Percy," said Harry, trying not to laugh.

"I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.

"Hey, I wonder if Harry's met the mayor?" said James. "He should, after all, since he's the world's best son..."

"Very well, thanks-"

"Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy-"

"Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."

Percy scowled.

"That's enough now," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum!" said Fred, as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand too. "How really corking to see you-"

"I said, that's enough," said Mrs. Weasley, depositing her shopping in an empty chair.

"No, it's not enough!" said Sirius. "Those two are hysterical..."

"Yes, I suppose those two would be of interest to you and Prongs?" said Remus.

"Oh yeah," said James. "They sound cool already."

"Hello, Harry dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?"

"Oh, no, don't tell me you're having another kid!" said Peter. "There are already so many Weasleys as it is!"

She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"Hmm. Let's hope she doesn't swell so much that she inflates. That'd be bad, now wouldn't it?" said Remus.

"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."

"Exactly," said Sirius. "It's more fun being in Detention, sometimes. Plus, we have Moony as our Prefect-Friend, so it all works out good."

"Oh, great," said Remus, frowning. "Are you insinuating that you just like to hang around me so I'll let you guys slide with things?"

"No, 'course not," said Sirius. "Although that is an added bonus."

Ginny giggled.

"You want to set a better example for your sister!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.

"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner..."

He disappeared and George heaved a sigh.

"We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Harry. "But Mum spotted us."

James and Sirius started laughing. "That's a brilliant idea!" they said.

Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Tom the innkeeper put three tables together in the parlor, and the seven-

"Dorks," finished Peter.

"No, it's Dwarfs," said James.

"I believe you mean 'dwarves'," said Remus.

"Oh yeah," said James.

"But I told you. I'm renaming that story Snow White and the Seven Midgets," Sirius said.

"Alright, you do that, Padfoot."

"Fine, Moony, I will."

-Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione ate their way through five delicious courses.

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.

"Yum," Remus added in between his reading.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley.

Everyone looked up at him.

"Why?" said Percy curiously.

"It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them-"

"-for Humongous Bighead," said Fred.

James and Sirius burst into hysterics and fell back onto the floor laughing as Remus chuckled and Peter snorted.

"Oh, man, we'll have to watch out for these two," said James. "They might become cooler than us!"

"What if we're legends and they're trying to steal our identities?" said Sirius, laughing.

"Wouldn't we all want to?" muttered Peter softly under the laughing.

"Wow, we must be very popular, then!" said James. "But they can't match up to us...nah. They're not Animagi. At least, I don't think they can be..."

Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy asked again, in a dignified voice.

"Well, as we haven't got one anymore," said Mr. Weasley, "-and as I work there, they're doing me a favor-"

His voice was casual, but Harry couldn't help noticing that Mr. Weasley's ears had gone red, just like Ron's did when he was under pressure.

"Good thing, too," said Mrs. Weasley briskly. "Do you realize how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground...You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," said Percy, in a long-suffering voice. "He's dumped them on my bed."

"Aw, suck it up, Humongous Bighead," said James.

"You're better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs. Weasley called down the table. Ron scowled at Percy.

After dinner everyone felt very full and sleepy. One by one they made their way upstairs to their rooms to check their things for the next day. Ron and Percy were next door to Harry. He had just closed and locked his own trunk when he heard angry voices through the wall, and went to see what was going on.

The door of number twelve-

"Oh no, that's the beginning of the address to my house," said Sirius. "Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Awful, despicable house. Thanks a lot, book, for reminding me of it..."

"I still say you can move in with me," said James. "My parents have gotten used to you always being here."

"Thanks, Prongs."

-was ajar and Percy was shouting.

"It was here, on the bedside table, I took it off for polishing-"

"I haven't touched it, all right?" Ron roared back.

"What's up?"

"The sky," said Peter.

"The stars," said Sirius.

"The moon," grumbled Remus.

"The comets that go 'woooooooooo' every few years!" said James.

"My Head Boy badge is gone," said Percy, rounding on Harry.

"So's Scabber's rat tonic," said Ron, throwing things out of his trunk to look. "I think I might've left it in the bar-"

"You're not going anywhere till you've found my badge!" yelled Percy.

"I'll get Scabber's stuff, I'm packed," Harry said to Ron, and he went downstairs.

Harry was halfway along the passage to the bar, which was now very dark, when he heard another pair of-

"Socks," said Sirius

"Socks?" asked Remus.

"What? I just felt like being random..."

-angry voices coming from the parlor. A second later, he recognized them as Mr. And Mrs. Weasleys'. He hesitated, not wanting them to know he'd heard them arguing, when the sound of his own name made him stop, then move closer to the parlor door.

James made a sort of mock gasp. "Talking about my son behind his back! How rude!"

"...makes no sense not to tell him," Mr. Weasley was saying heatedly. "Harry's got a right to know."

"Of course he does!" said James. "What does he have to know? What? What? What?"

"I've tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. He's thirteen years old and-"

"Arthur, the truth would terrify him!" said Mrs. Weasley shrilly. "Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over him? For heaven's sake, he's happy not knowing!"

"Or is he?" said Peter, mocking shifty eyes.

"What is he happy not knowing?!" James yelled. "Tell me, tell me, Moony!"

"Hold on!" said Remus. "I'm not at that bit yet!"

"I don't want to make him miserable, I want to put him on his guard!" retorted Mr. Weasley. "You know what Harry and Ron are like, wandering off by themselves- they've ended up in the Forbidden Forest twice!"

"Why's that?" asked James loudly.

"But Harry mustn't do that this year! When I think what could have happened to him that night he ran away from home! If the Knight Bus hadn't picked him up, I'm prepared to bet he would have been dead before the Ministry found him."

"But he's not dead, he's fine, so what's the point-"

"Molly, they say Sirius Black's mad, and maybe he is, but he was clever enough to escape Azkaban, and that's supposed to be impossible."

"Oh, thanks for reminding me!" shouted Sirius. "What are you talking about me now for?!"

"It's been three weeks, and no one's seen hide nor hair of him, and I don't care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, we're no nearer catching black than inventing self-spelling wands."

"Darn, I always wanted one of those..." said Peter.

"Shhhh!" said Sirius.

"The only thing we know for sure is what Black's after-"

"And what's that?!" yelled Sirius.

"But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts."

Remus furrowed his brow. He didn't like the idea of where this was going. Sirius continued to stare intently at the book.

"We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe. If Black can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts."

"But no one's really sure that Black's after Harry-"

James slowly turned his head sideways from the book to Sirius' face. "Padfoot, don't make me think what I'm thinking..."

Sirius matched James' facial expression of confusion and anger. "Don't think I think you think I thought that I wanted you to get that thought..."

There was a thud on wood, and Harry was sure Mr. Weasley had banged his fist on the table.

"Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn't report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Black's been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: 'He's at Hogwarts...he's at Hogwarts.' Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead."

"YOU WHAT?!" James exploded and pushed Sirius over. "Don't you go killing my son!"

Sirius tackled him. "I'M ALREADY A MURDERER AND NOW I'M GOING ABOUT KILLING YOUR SON. YOU THINK I WANTED THAT TO HAPPEN?"

Sirius and James soon began rolling around on the floor, punching each other and yelling at each other. Remus quickly put the book down, went over to the two and tried to push them apart.

"SIRIUS, SIT DOWN AND STOP PUNCHING JAMES. JAMES, STOP YELLING AND PUNCHING SIRIUS."

Yes, That-Time-Of-The-Month was coming on in a few days for Remus, so he could really get quite mad about things. He managed to separate the two and get them sitting back down.

"Please, let's not attack each other right here and now. I'm really not feeling up to it."

"Well, sorry, Moony," said Sirius, though his tone was not quite sorry. "But Prongs here is yelling about me murdering his son as if I purposely chose to."

"Because you did!" James bellowed. "How could you?!"

Sirius looked as if he was ready to go attack James again, but Remus hurriedly pushed him back down again. "Sirius, stop attacking James. If you must be angry, do it in a less aggressive way."

Sirius sighed in an annoyed way. Then he began poking James in the shoulder. James just glared at him. Peter looked shocked but kind of laughed.

"Um...what are you doing?" Remus asked Sirius.

"I'm poking Prongs with rage."

"Er...alright then...shall we get on with the story?"

"If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harry stopped You-Know-Who, and he's had twelve years in Azkaban to brood on that."

"Great, just what I wanted!" said Sirius hysterically after poking James again. "Twelve years in Azkaban with the Dementors to brood on killing someone!"

There was silence.

Remus blinked. Actually, there was silence in their own room as well.

Harry leaned still closer to the door, desperate to hear more.

"Well, Arthur, you must do what you think is right. But you're forgetting Albus Dumbledore. I don't think anything could hurt Harry at Hogwarts while Dumbledore's headmaster. I suppose he knows about all this?"

"Of course he knows. We had to ask him if he minds the Azkaban guards stationing themselves around the entrances to the school grounds. He wasn't happy about it, but he agreed."

"Not happy?"

"Well, yeah, who would be?" asked Sirius angrily.

"Why shouldn't he be happy, if they're there to catch Black?"

"Dumbledore isn't fond of the Azkaban guards," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Not am I, if it comes to that...but when you're dealing with a wizard like Black, you sometimes have to join forces with those you'd rather avoid."

"If they save Harry-"

"- then I will never say another word against them," said Mr. Weasley wearily. "It's late, Molly, we'd better go up..."

Harry heard chairs move. As quietly as he could, he hurried down the passage to the bar and out of sight. Then the parlor door opened, and a few seconds later footsteps told him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were climbing the stairs.

The bottle of rat tonic was lying under the table they had sat at earlier. Harry waited until he heard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom door close, then headed back upstairs with the bottle.

Fred and George were crouching in the shadows on the landing, heaving with laughter as they listening to Percy dismantling his and Ron's room in search of his badge.

"We've got it," Fred whispered to Harry. "We've been improving it."

The badge now read 'Bighead Boy'.

Normally, this would have made James and Sirius start laughing, since they thought the twins to be absolutely hysterical, but they were silent. Peter gave a small little laugh, but stopped it as he heard the rest of the room was silent too.

Harry forced a laugh, went to give Ron the rat tonic, then shut himself in his room and lay down on his bed.

So Sirius Black was after him.

James clenched his teeth and Sirius looked at the book as if it had just killed his soul. Which, in a way, it was.

This explained everything. Fudge had been lenient with him because he was so relived to find him alive. He'd made Harry promise to stay in Diagon Alley where there were plenty of wizards to keep an eye on him. And he was sending two Ministry cars to take them all to the station tomorrow, so that the Weasley's could look after Harry until he was on the train.

Harry lay listening to the muffled shouting next door and wondered why he didn't feel more scared.

"At least my son doesn't feel scared when it turns out that people are breaking out of prison to go murder him," said James in an intentional ominous tone. Sirius gave no reply and acted as if he could not hear him.

Sirius Black had murdered thirteen people with one curse; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley obviously thought Harry would be panic-stricken if he knew the truth. But Harry happened to agree wholeheartedly with Mrs. Weasley that the safest place on earth was wherever Albus Dumbledore happened to be. Didn't people always say that Dumbledore was the only person Lord Voldemort had ever been afraid of? Surely Black, as Voldemort's right-hand man, would be just as frightened of him?

"No I'm not!" retorted Sirius irritably. "Dumbledore's wicked! Why should I be afraid of him?! He's a great Headmaster!"

Remus agreed with this as well, since he had so much respect and gratitude toward Dumbledore. However, he knew it was not the time to mention his appreciation for Dumbledore.

And then there were these Azkaban guards everyone kept talking about. They seemed to scare most people senseless, and if they were stationed all around the school, Black's chances of getting inside seemed very remote.

"Yeah, no one's allowed to murder my son," James said tauntingly.

No, all in all, the thing that bothered Harry most was the fact that his chances of visiting Hogsmeade now looked like zero. Nobody would want Harry to leave the safety of the castle until Black was caught; in fact, Harry suspected his every move would be carefully watched until the danger had passed.

He scowled at the dark ceiling. Did they think he couldn't look after himself? He'd escaped from Lord Voldemort three times; he wasn't completely useless...

Unbidden, the image of the beast in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent crossed his mind. 'What to do when you know the worst is coming...'

"I'm not going to be murdered," Harry said out loud.

"That's the spirit, dear," said his mirror sleepily.

"Yes, you bet that's the spirit," said James.

Remus looked up at everyone, since he had reached Chapter Five. He himself was rather shocked. James had a look of anger and rebellion on his face. Sirius looked as if he was in horror, yet he also had an irritable look on his face. Peter was just staring at the book.

No one had anything to say.