[Castling] Chapter 50

Hermione and Harry exchanged a quick glance.

"I got back to the common room and you weren’t there," Harry started. "So I checked the Map."

Bloody hell. The Map! I mentally kicked myself. I'd completely forgotten about it. This is how big plans fall apart—little things slip through the cracks. At least I made it in time...

"And I saw Black near the Whomping Willow. But you... you were near the gates. And with you was Peter Pettigrew—the one the Minister was talking about. The one Black was supposed to have killed years ago. That’s when I realized you were right—Black wasn’t the traitor. Pettigrew must’ve killed all those people. Otherwise, why fake his own death? So we ran to tell the Headmaster, to warn him—to save you and Black. Who knows what a murderer like Pettigrew might do? He could’ve killed you both."

"But the gargoyle wouldn’t let us in—we didn’t know the password," Hermione rattled off anxiously. "And we didn’t want to cause a scene, not when Black’s still a wanted criminal. So Harry suggested we go straight to Professor Lupin."

"And the moment we explained and showed him the Map, he went white as a sheet and bolted—didn’t say a word to us, just ran," Harry added. "By then, you, Black, and Pettigrew were all showing up on the Map. Black was near the tree, but then he disappeared. And you were heading straight for him—practically dragging Pettigrew along."

"But when we caught up with Professor Lupin, Peeves slowed him down," Hermione said, wringing her hands. "Vanished a staircase right out from under him—well, not really vanished, it was a spell, a very advanced one, I read about it in—"

"Hermione!"

"Right. Anyway, we managed to get past it and kept running. He caught up with us later. And… well, that’s it."

At that moment, a noise echoed from the passage. We stiffened.

"I think we should check it out," Harry said, determined. Without hesitating, he ducked into the tunnel, and we followed right behind him. As we crept forward, the dim light grew brighter, and the voices became clearer.

"You’re mad, Padfoot!" Lupin’s voice rang out, sharp as steel. I’d never heard him sound like that before. "How could you eat him? Wormtail was the only one who could clear your name! How are you going to explain yourself now? Who’s going to believe you?"

"Explain myself?" Black’s laugh was rough and ragged, almost a bark. "Don’t be thick, Moony. Who’s going to listen? Who cares about my side of the story? There’s a hundred Dementors outside just waiting for me to speak up, just so they can pounce on me with their ‘Kisses.’"

"But you ate someone, Sirius," Lupin groaned.

"Someone?! SOMEONE?!" Black’s voice rose to a near-screech, like a dog whose tail had been stepped on. "Where in that pile of filth did you see a someone, Moony? I killed and ate a rat! A rotten, festering, stinking rat! A cowardly, filthy rat! And now he’s exactly what he’s always been—a pile of steaming shit!"

"Enough, Sirius! That’s disgusting… You’ll regret this. You should have kept him alive—to prove your innocence."

"Enough?" Black growled, low and dangerous. "What do you know, Moony? I dreamed about this for years, locked up in that cell. The only thing that kept me sane was the thought of finding that traitor, tearing into his throat, ripping him to pieces—Lily and James… they were with me the whole time. Watching me. Blaming me. You don’t know what it’s like—to feel their cold, accusing stares, to drown in guilt, to slam yourself against the walls just to make it stop. James… Lily… Harry… They wanted justice. And if this is the only thing I ever do in my miserable life—at least I got my revenge. I got it! And now, even if I die—I can die in peace."

Black sucked in a sharp breath and let out a laugh—wild, broken, cut off with a strangled gasp.

In the dark, we exchanged looks. Harry gave us a quick nod toward the door.

"You’ve lost your mind, Sirius," Lupin said, exhausted. And that was the moment we stepped into the room.

The two men froze, staring at us in shock. Then Black flinched and lunged.

"Harry… Harry," Black croaked, taking an unsteady step toward him.

Harry jerked back, grip tightening around his wand. Black stopped short, raising both hands in surrender, like he was admitting defeat.

"I won’t come any closer, Harry," Black said, flashing a grin that was more feral than friendly, exposing ragged gums and broken, blackened teeth.

"I’m not scared," Harry shot back, swallowing hard. His body tensed, like he was forcing himself not to back away again.

I shifted slightly, angling myself more in front of Hermione—who, judging by her pale face, was one breath away from a full-blown panic attack.

"Bloody hell—you look just like James," Black muttered, his voice distant, eyes locked onto Harry like he was seeing a ghost. "Look, Moony, look… Prongs is back with us… life goes on…"

"Erm… Harry," Lupin finally found his voice, his tone gentle, but cautious. "By now, I imagine you’ve figured out… it was Peter Pettigrew who betrayed your parents. Not Sirius. He’s innocent."

"You sound like mates," Harry said sharply. "Professor, you never mentioned that you and Black were friends. And what does a rat have to do with this? And a dog?"

"We were friends, Harry," Lupin said softly. "That Map you brought me… we made it. James, Sirius, Peter, and I. And the dog…"

"We’re Animagi, Harry," Black cut in, suddenly animated. "James was a stag. I’m a dog. And Wormtail—"

"Pettigrew was a rat," Lupin finished quickly, as if hoping we’d forget to turn the conversation back to him.

"And you the werewolf, Professor?" Hermione blurted out, completely wrecking his plan.

Lupin flinched but quickly recovered. Not that it mattered—Black had launched into another manic ramble.

"Oh, yes," he barked a laugh, pacing the room. "Those were the days… We’d sneak out through the secret tunnels. Unlock Moony’s door. Shift into our animal forms and run wild all night long. It was our secret," he went on, his voice rushed and almost delirious, as if he were completely lost in his memories.

"Sirius, that's enough," said Lupin, "We were talking about Peter."

"Yeah, that rat who betrayed us all," Black growled, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "But don’t worry, Harry, I got justice for your dad—for all of us..."

"Just to clarify, Professor Lupin," I cut in, my voice calm but pointed. "So you also thought Black was a traitor up until now?"

"Yes," Lupin admitted, bowing his head slightly, looking almost relieved by the change in subject. "But when I saw Pettigrew on the Map, I knew Sirius was innocent. The Map never lies."

"Brilliant," I laughed dryly. "That just makes things even more interesting. Let me get this straight, sir," I continued, letting the sarcasm drip from my voice. "You knew Black was a convicted criminal. You knew he was an Animagus. And yet, you never thought to mention it to the Headmaster? Never thought to tell anyone how he might be sneaking into the school?"

"Ron, it doesn’t matter anymore," Hermione interrupted, squeezing my hand in what I assumed was meant to be a reassuring gesture. "Mister Black is innocent."

"Oh, is he?" I scoffed, shaking her off. Was she really that naive, or just playing dumb? "So, your favourite professor spent the entire year watching the teachers turn the castle inside out searching for Black, all while drinking tea with Harry, reminiscing about his parents, and sleeping soundly at night—knowing full well that Black was out there, desperate to get to Harry, and wouldn’t stop until he did."

"Mr. Weasley," Lupin tried to cut in, his voice strained. "I would appreciate—"

"See, Hermione," I cut across him sharply, "turns out being a dark creature scum isn’t just about full moons. It’s a whole way of life."

"Is that true, sir?" Harry asked, his voice quiet, but firm. Black, meanwhile, was glancing between all of us, muttering under his breath like he wasn’t fully in the room.

"But why?" Harry pressed.

"Harry…" Lupin murmured, looking thoroughly miserable as he averted his gaze.

"Oh, come on, Harry, it’s obvious," I said flatly. "Dumbledore trusted Lupin—first as a student, then as a teacher. And what did we just learn? Back in school, instead of staying safely locked up, he ran wild with his Animagus mates, scaring the hell out of the locals. If he admitted to anyone that he’d kept Black’s secret, he’d have been finished. So what did he do? He waited—waited for Black to get caught or killed so he could take the truth with him to the grave. Between protecting his own reputation and protecting you, Harry, he chose himself. Lovely, isn’t it?"

"Harry!" Black suddenly jolted forward, his eyes flickering back to reality. "Harry, I’m your godfather," he rasped, as though that settled everything. "James… James is gone… it’s my fault… but I avenged him," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Why are you being like this, Ron?" Hermione whispered, shooting a wounded glance at Lupin.

"By the way, Hermione," I said casually, ignoring her. "It isn’t a full moon tonight, is it?"

I wanted to humiliate him, grind him into the dirt until he had nothing left to hide behind. He was no better than Pettigrew—both cowards, both selfish, both willing to let others suffer to save their own skin.

"Mr. Weasley," Lupin finally found his voice, looking up at me with an icy glare. "You—"

"Ron!" Hermione’s panicked screech cut through the air as she clutched my arm. "Ron—it is a full moon!"

"Professor," Harry’s voice was suddenly sharp with urgency. "Did you take your potion tonight?"

Lupin didn't answer. At first, he just froze. Then his face drained of colour, red blotches creeping up his neck. His hand shot to his throat.

For a split second, I thought he was about to transform right there—and if he did, we were dead.

"Harry," I hissed. "Hermione!"

Our wands were up before he could make another move. Every spell Snape had ever taught us came flying.

"Accio, Lupin’s wand!" Harry shouted.

"Incarcerous!" I cast, and the momentarily stunned Lupin was yanked off his feet, bound in thick ropes.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione finished the job, her voice shaky. A second later, Lupin crashed face-first onto the dirty floor, completely immobilized.

"What do we do now?!" Hermione yelped, her hands flying to her face. "We just attacked a professor!"

"Before he attacked us, Hermione," I shot back. "Harry—"

"Harry?" Black had finally caught up, stepping forward hesitantly. "What’s going on? What just happened? Why is Moony on the floor?"

Harry was quick on the uptake.

"Mr. Black," he rushed, as Hermione—trembling, but ever the moral one—used magic to flip Lupin onto his back without actually touching him. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. People like her—so bloody righteous until the danger’s right in their face. "We need to go—now. If he transforms, those ropes won’t hold him."

"Why run?" Black asked, trotting after us as we sprinted toward the exit. "Just seal the tunnel. That’ll do it."

It was the most sensible thing he’d said all night.

"Harry, you’ve got the Map, yeah?" I asked, a bad feeling creeping in.

Harry froze. I crashed into his back.

"No," he whispered, horrified. "Lupin ran out so fast, we followed without thinking—I left it behind."

"If Snape comes to bring him the potion, he’ll see us on the Map. And he’ll see Black. The second we step outside, we’re screwed."

"Mr. Black," Harry spun to him. "Take Professor Lupin’s wand and run."

"But what about—"

"Send it back with an owl," Harry cut him off. "He won’t be needing it for a while."

"Alright," Black agreed, accepting the wand like it was the best gift he’d ever received. "Let’s move."

We emerged into thick darkness. The clouds parted just enough for the moon to break through.

Black turned and flicked his wand at the entrance, sealing it with several layers of magic. He did it so quickly, so confidently, that I knew he’d done this before.

When we had put some distance between us and the tree, Black pointed his wand at the Whomping Willow. With a soft pulse of magic, the great branches sprang to life, thrashing wildly like giant, furious tentacles, ready to strike at anything that came near.

Snape was nowhere to be seen, and Black had pulled Harry aside, crouching down and murmuring something sentimental. Harry nodded along, a bit awkward, with a small, embarrassed smile. Though, for all I knew, his eyes were watering from the sheer stench of the man.

Hermione and I kept a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude on their little family reunion. Not that we could properly appreciate the moment—between the biting cold and the leftover tension, it wasn’t exactly cosy. Hermione’s hand, which had been gripping onto me like a vice, was trembling and ice-cold. Her gaze was distant, like she was a thousand miles away. I cast a quick Warming Charm on her, but I doubted she even noticed.

"Harry, if the Dementors get even a whiff of Black, they’ll be all over us in seconds," I cut in, breaking the soppy atmosphere. "Can’t say I’m keen on another run-in with them, and I doubt Mr. Black would be particularly thrilled either."

"Yeah, Sirius," Harry agreed quickly, snapping back to reality. "You should transform and run for it—head straight for the edge of Hogwarts grounds and Apparate from there. Come on, we’ll see each other again."

"Alright, Harry," Black said, nodding, but he still didn’t let go of Harry’s shoulder, like he couldn’t quite bring himself to part yet. And honestly, I got it—after years locked away in Azkaban, the bloke had probably forgotten what human contact even felt like.

"Ron, yeah? And Hermione," Black turned his hollow gaze on us, his voice rough but surprisingly sincere. "Thank you. Really. And Harry—I’d like you to come stay with me in the summer."

He hesitated for just a second before shifting. The moment he landed on all fours, he let out a sharp, excited bark, wagged his tail, and licked Harry’s hands like some overgrown stray. Then, grabbing a wand from the ground between his teeth, he bolted into the darkness, glancing back at us twice before vanishing into the night.

"Brilliant, that all worked out," Harry chattered brightly as we hurried towards the castle. "I’ve got a godfather! And maybe I won’t have to go back to the Dursleys for the summer!"

"Let’s pick up the pace," Hermione snapped, ignoring him completely. "Curfew’s soon."

"Oh, come on, Hermione! We did it!" Harry grinned, reaching out to drape an arm over her shoulders in an excited half-hug. She immediately shrugged him off.

"I just… I don’t even know what’s going to happen now," she exhaled sharply, rubbing her arms. "We attacked a professor. We helped Sirius Black escape, and it doesn’t matter that he’s innocent—there’s no proof. Do you realise what that means? We could be expelled."

"We’ll tell Dumbledore everything," Harry said stubbornly. "They won’t expel us, Hermione. Don’t worry."

"Let’s talk about it tomorrow," she waved him off, voice tight. "I can’t even think straight right now. I just need to sleep."

"You were amazing tonight," Harry told her, flashing an encouraging smile.

"Absolutely," I agreed, grinning. "And, you know, we did work like a well-oiled machine again. Bet even Snape would be impressed—that was a solid 'Outstanding'."

Turns out, we still had some time before curfew. Harry even managed to dash up to the dorms to grab his Invisibility Cloak and check Lupin’s office for the Map. No luck, though. Meanwhile, I made a beeline for the showers—after standing near Black, I felt like I’d been rolling around in a rubbish bin for two days straight. Took me ages to scrub off that feeling.

And, of course, as soon as I stepped out, freshly dressed, I ran straight into Percy.

"Ron," he started, peering at me like I’d just escaped from Azkaban myself. "The Headmaster wants to see you."

"What, now?" I asked, frowning. "Curfew’s in, like, ten minutes."

"Now," Percy confirmed, lips pressed into a thin line. "Potter and Granger are already there."

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

"Ron… you haven’t done anything, have you?" he asked hesitantly, watching me closely.

"What, me?" I smirked, tugging on my jumper. "Come on, Perce, you know I’m an absolute angel."

"Do you want me to walk you there?" he offered, frowning.

"I’ll manage," I said, waving him off as I started towards the exit.

"Alright… good luck, then," he called after me. "The password’s ‘fizzing whizzbees’."

"Fizzing whizzbees, got it," I muttered under my breath as I jogged up the stairs towards Dumbledore’s office.

Merlin, what was waiting for us now? I just really hoped we weren’t about to get kicked out.