╰┈➤ ❝[𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝟙𝟠]❞࿐ ˊˎ-
˚.⃗.[ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟғ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴅs]𑁍ࠜೄ ˊˎ
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

The Hogwarts Grounds
( March, 1994. )

𝓢irius and Harry helped Ron limp through the passageway, his weight leaning heavily on them as he struggled to walk. Hermione and Esme followed closely behind, their steps careful as they navigated the uneven ground. The weight of everything that had just happened still clung to them, thick and suffocating, but Sirius, ever one to lighten a mood, broke the silence with an easy, albeit slightly guilty, grin.

"Sorry about the bite. I reckon that twinges a bit."

Ron turned his head sharply, his face twisted in outrage. "A bit? A bit?! You almost tore my leg off!"

Sirius smirked, completely unapologetic. "Now, I was going for the rat. Normally, I have a very sweet disposition as a dog. In fact, more than once, James suggested that I make the change permanent. The tail I could live with, but the fleas..."

Ron let out an exasperated huff, shaking his head, though there was the barest hint of reluctant amusement in his eyes. Esme caught Hermione's eye, and they both exchanged a small, knowing smile.

As they finally emerged from the tunnel, a crisp night breeze greeted them, cool against their faces after the stale air of the underground passage. The grounds stretched before them, bathed in silver moonlight, and not far in the distance, the castle stood proud against the dark sky, its towers illuminated by the warm glow of candlelight from within.

Sirius took a few steps ahead, as if drawn toward the sight of Hogwarts, the place he had once called home. His expression shifted from amusement to something softer, more bittersweet. He walked toward a small clearing with a perfect view of the castle and stopped, his gaze fixed on it, unmoving.

Behind him, Harry, Esme, and Hermione crouched beside Ron, checking over his injured leg, but Esme's attention lingered on Sirius. She watched the way his shoulders slumped slightly, the way his fingers curled into his palms as if restraining the full weight of his emotions.

She looked to Harry and nudged him gently. "You better go talk to him."

Harry hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly. "No."

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Don't worry, okay?"

Harry shook his head. "It's fine. I'll stay."

Hermione gave him a pointed look, her voice firmer now. "You go, I'll stay."

Esme turned to Harry, her voice softer, more careful. "You okay?"

Harry exhaled sharply, his eyes briefly flickering to the ground before he admitted, "I'd rather not go alone. Come with me?"

Esme hesitated for only a second before nodding. She looked to Hermione, who gave her a small nod of encouragement, before standing and falling into step beside Harry as they walked toward Sirius.

The night air was cool against their skin, carrying with it the distant sounds of rustling leaves and the faint hoots of an owl somewhere in the trees. Harry's posture was tense as they walked, his fingers twitching slightly at his side, betraying his nerves. Esme noticed immediately.

Without a word, she reached out and gently took his hand in hers.

Harry inhaled sharply, startled by the sudden contact. His green eyes flickered to her, but Esme didn't look at him. She kept her gaze ahead, her grip warm and steady, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

The tension in Harry's posture didn't vanish entirely, but the slight tremor in his fingers faded, and he let himself hold onto her hand in return.

When they reached Sirius, the older man didn't turn at first. His eyes remained locked on Hogwarts, the longing evident in his face.

Harry stood beside him, Esme just on his other side, her hand still in his.

After a moment, Sirius finally spoke, his voice thick with something unreadable. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Harry followed his gaze, taking in the sight of the castle-the only place that had ever truly felt like home to him.

Sirius continued, "I'll never forget the first time I walked through those doors. It'll be nice to do it again as a free man." He exhaled, shaking his head slightly before adding, "That was a noble thing you did back there. He doesn't deserve it."

Harry's grip on Esme's hand tightened slightly, his voice quieter when he finally replied. "I didn't think my dad would have wanted his best friends... to become killers." He glanced at Sirius then, determination flickering in his expression. "Besides, dead, the truth dies with him. Alive, you're free."

Sirius turned his gaze to Harry then, a mix of pride and deep emotion reflected in his eyes. For a long moment, he simply looked at him-really looked at him-as if seeing James in him more than ever.

Esme glanced between the two, sensing the gravity of the moment but saying nothing, her fingers still loosely curled around Harry's, offering silent support.

Esme watched as Sirius finally turned his attention away from the castle, his sharp gray eyes flickering to her. His expression was curious, a bit playful even, as he looked between her and Harry.

"Who's this then?" he asked, his tone lighthearted.

Harry blinked, suddenly realizing he hadn't introduced her. "Oh, uh-" He hesitated, then took a small step to the side, allowing Esme to speak for herself.

Straightening slightly, Esme met Sirius's gaze and answered, "Esmeralda Lestrange, but you can just call me Esme."

The name landed heavily between them.

For the briefest moment, Sirius's face fell, his features shifting in unmistakable recognition. His eyes flickered with something unreadable-shock, unease, maybe even a hint of wariness. But just as quickly as the reaction had come, he smoothed it over, forcing a small smile as he reached out to shake her hand.

"Good to meet you, Esme."

She returned the handshake, firm and confident, though she didn't miss the way his grip had tensed slightly upon hearing her last name. She was used to reactions like this. It was just another reminder of the name she carried, one she hadn't chosen but couldn't seem to escape.

Before anything else could be said, a shrill, pitiful voice cut through the night air.

From the tunnel entrance, Pettigrew and Lupin emerged, the former already whining and groveling before he was even fully visible. His hunched figure stumbled forward, his watery eyes darting between them all in desperation.

"Turn me into a dung beetle! Turn me into a flobberworm! Anything but the Dementors!" he pleaded, his voice cracking with panic.

His gaze locked onto Ron, his expression shifting into something pitifully eager as he reached toward him. "Ron! Haven't I been a good pet? You won't let them give me..." His voice turned wheedling, desperate. "...to the Dementors, will you? I was your rat!"

Ron recoiled, his face twisted in disgust.

Pettigrew, seeing no sympathy there, turned instead to Hermione, his sweaty, trembling hands grasping at her arm. His eyes were wide, frantic. "Sweet, clever girl! Surely you won't-"

"Get away from her!" Ron snapped, shoving Pettigrew back with all the strength he could muster.

Pettigrew stumbled, cowering as he looked around wildly, searching for someone-anyone-who might take pity on him. But he found nothing except disdain and fury in their eyes.

Meanwhile, Sirius, unbothered by the rat's pathetic attempts at mercy, turned back to Harry, speaking again in a quieter, more solemn tone.

"I don't know if you know, Harry..." Sirius hesitated for only a moment before continuing. "...but when you were born, James and Lily made me your godfather."

Harry stiffened slightly beside Esme. His grip around her hand, which had already been firm, tightened ever so slightly. His voice, when he spoke, was soft but certain. "I know."

Sirius studied him carefully before pressing on. "I can understand if you choose to stay with your aunt and uncle..." He hesitated again, his voice gentle but filled with meaning. "...but if you ever wanted a different home..."

Harry turned his head sharply to look at him, his entire body tense with disbelief. His fingers clenched within Esme's grasp, as if bracing himself for the weight of what Sirius was saying.

"What?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Come and live with you?"

Sirius gave a small, almost hesitant nod. "It's just a thought. I can understand if you don't want to."

Esme, who had remained silent beside Harry, could feel the way his pulse had quickened slightly against her palm. His breathing was steady but strained, as if he were trying to keep his emotions in check. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but Harry's gaze was locked on Sirius, something raw and vulnerable flickering beneath the surface.

For the first time in his life, he was being offered a choice. A real home. And for a moment, the world around them seemed to stand still.

"Harry!"

Hermione's terrified voice sliced through the night, sharp and urgent.

Harry, Esme, and Sirius whirled around just in time to see the full moon emerging from behind the clouds. A sickly, silver glow bathed the clearing, illuminating Remus Lupin, who was trembling violently. His body convulsed, his hands clenching into tight fists as his breath came in ragged gasps. His eyes locked onto the moon, wide with terror, his expression crumbling into helplessness.

Sirius reacted instantly, rushing forward to his friend and gripping him tightly by the shoulders.

"Remus, my old friend," Sirius pleaded, voice thick with emotion. He shook him slightly, as if trying to bring him back from the inevitable. "Have you taken your potion tonight?"

Remus made a strangled noise, his head snapping to Sirius, eyes flickering between human and something far more monstrous.

"You know the man you truly are, Remus!" Sirius urged, his voice raw. "This heart is where you truly live! Here! This flesh is only flesh!"

But it was no use.

Even as Sirius held onto him, Lupin's body was twisting, stretching unnaturally, bones cracking as he arched back with an agonized howl. His fingers elongated into claws, his spine contorting as fur erupted along his skin. His breathing became a low, guttural growl, no longer human.

The air was thick with tension, their breaths frozen as they watched the horrifying transformation unfold. But in the chaos, none of them noticed Pettigrew scrambling along the ground.

His beady eyes darted around frantically until they landed on Remus's wand, lying forgotten on the dirt. His stubby fingers shot out, snatching it up.

Before anyone could react, he jabbed the wand to his own head.

Harry saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and lunged forward, instincts kicking in. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted.

The wand shot from Pettigrew's grasp, landing harmlessly in the dirt. But it was already too late.

Pettigrew gave them all one last malicious grin before his body began to shrink, twisting and distorting in a sickening display of magic. Within seconds, he had vanished, leaving only a scrawny, grey-furred rat in his place.

"No!" Harry yelled.

He lunged after him, but Esme reacted faster, grabbing his arm and yanking him back. "Harry, don't!" she urged, her grip firm.

Nearby, Hermione struggled under the weight of Ron, who was barely able to stay upright. He groaned in pain, his face pale from the lingering effects of his injury.

But none of that mattered now.

Because Remus was no longer Remus.

Sirius still clung to him, desperation in his voice. "Remus! Remus!" he called, trying one last time to reach him.

But the werewolf was deaf to his words. It let out a guttural snarl, its lips peeling back to reveal razor-sharp teeth.

Sirius turned back to them, his face set with grim determination.

"Run!" he shouted. "Run!"

But none of them moved.

Not wanting to leave Sirius behind, Harry, Esme, Hermione, and Ron hesitated, their feet rooted to the spot.

Finally, Harry turned, making the decision for them. "Come on!" he urged.

But Hermione stopped them, her gaze locked on the werewolf. "Wait. Wait."

"Hermione!" Ron hissed, his voice strained. "Bad idea. Bad idea!"

Ignoring him, Hermione took a step forward. "Professor?" she called hesitantly. "Professor Lupin?"

The werewolf's ears twitched.

And then it howled.

The sound was bone-chilling, primal and wild, reverberating through the trees. Slowly, it lowered its head, its glowing eyes locking onto them like prey.

Ron swallowed hard. "Nice doggy," he muttered weakly. "Nice doggy."

Esme reacted first, grabbing Hermione's wrist and pulling her back toward the group.

But before the werewolf could attack-

"There you are!"

A sharp voice cut through the tension as Snape suddenly burst from the tunnel, his black robes billowing as he stepped into the clearing. His expression twisted with fury, but the moment he caught sight of Lupin, it was replaced by something far more vulnerable-fear.

Despite it, Snape moved swiftly. Without hesitation, he stepped in front of the four students, throwing his arms out as if shielding them with his own body. His wand was clutched tightly in one hand, but even he knew it wouldn't be enough.

Lupin growled, baring his teeth.

Then, in a blur of motion, he lunged.

Snape barely managed to move back in time, but the werewolf's claws still slashed across his robes, sending him stumbling. The sudden movement knocked into Harry, Esme, Hermione, and Ron, sending them all crashing to the ground in a tangled heap.

They barely had time to get their bearings before the werewolf reared up again, preparing for another attack.

Then-

A massive black dog sprang into view.

Sirius, now fully transformed, leapt between them and Lupin, snapping his jaws with a furious snarl.

Lupin turned to him, recognizing the challenge. With another guttural growl, he lunged at Sirius, and the two collided in a flurry of fur and claws.

Sirius didn't hesitate-he spun on his heels and sprinted into the forest, deliberately leading Lupin away from the others.

Harry shot forward. "Sirius!"

Esme instantly moved after him, panic flashing in her eyes. But before she could follow, Snape's arms wrapped around her from behind, restraining her in a firm, almost desperate grip.

"No!" she screamed, thrashing against him. "Harry, no!"

Harry, already halfway toward the trees, barely registered Snape's voice behind him.

"Come back here, Potter!" Snape bellowed.

Esme struggled fiercely against his hold, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. "Let me go! Let me go, Professor!"

Snape's grip only tightened, his breath labored. "Absolutely not," he snapped.

But Esme wasn't listening. All she could see was Harry, running straight toward danger.

Esme was still fighting against Snape's grip, her breath ragged, her arms burning from the effort. Her mind screamed at her to run, to follow Harry, to help Sirius-but then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hermione stumble.

Ron was slipping, his weight becoming too much for her to hold up.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, her knees nearly buckling as she tried to keep him upright. His face was pale, his breaths shallow, and sweat clung to his forehead. His injured leg trembled violently beneath him, dark with fresh blood.

Esme froze, the fire in her chest suddenly doused by an icy wave of fear.

Ron was losing blood. He had been the entire time, but when they had fallen back the wound must've worsened.

Snape took advantage of her hesitation, his grip firm but no longer forceful. His voice was sharp, low, and completely devoid of patience.

"Lestrange, we have two options," he said coldly. "Stay here for another hour while you struggle, and Mr. Weasley loses more blood-" he glanced at Ron, whose eyelids were fluttering, "-or you can help your friend back to the castle."

Esme's heart pounded as she looked between Ron, Hermione, and the dark forest beyond.

Harry was still staring toward the lake, hands clenched into fists, every inch of him wound tight with panic and indecision.

Esme swallowed hard, the decision tearing her in two.

But Ron... Ron needed her now.

Her fingers curled into her palms, shaking slightly. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to breathe.

"Fine," she bit out, the word tasting like defeat.

Snape wasted no time. "Granger, Lestrange, get him up. Now."

Hermione barely acknowledged him, too focused on Ron as she struggled to keep him upright. Esme rushed forward, wrapping an arm around Ron's waist, helping take some of the weight off Hermione's shoulders.

"We've got you, Ron," she said, her voice softer now, reassuring.

Ron let out a weak, breathless laugh. "About time, Esme. Thought you'd rather fight Snape all night."

She huffed, adjusting her grip. "Don't tempt me."

Ron's weight was heavier than she expected, and he let out a strangled groan as they started to move.

Esme could feel her heart racing, every beat pounding against her chest like a frantic drum. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of panic-Harry was still out there, alone, and now Ron was slipping further from consciousness with every step. The pain of helplessness weighed on her, like a stone lodged deep in her chest.

Hermione, holding onto Ron's other side, was struggling just as much. Her breath came in short bursts, her eyes filled with worry as she kept her focus on Ron's face, his skin growing colder by the minute.

"Professor! I think he's going to pass out!" Hermione cried out, her voice breaking as she shifted to support Ron even more.

Snape, his expression as cold and distant as ever, merely looked down at the situation. "Then walk faster."

Esme gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to snap back at him. Instead, she focused on Ron's faint laughter as he slurred, "Not strong enough to carry me, Es?"

Ron was trying to joke, but the way his voice faltered made it all the more heartbreaking. She could feel his body sag against hers, his weight becoming unbearable. But she couldn't-wouldn't-let him fall. She tightened her hold, her voice low but firm as she responded.

"Weasley, don't you dare pass out on us."

Ron let out a shaky breath, trying to lift his head for a moment, but his eyes were heavy.

"You're on your last leg and you're joking-honestly Ronald," Hermione said, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection. Then, she gave a small laugh, despite the situation, as if Ron's determination to joke even now was somehow comforting.

Esme's breath was shaky, but she forced herself to focus. They had to keep going. The castle gates were in sight, and McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and Filch were rushing toward them, their faces stricken with concern.

"Oh dear heavens," McGonagall murmured, her hands moving over Ron's form with swift precision. She cupped Esme's face gently, looking into her eyes as if searching for answers, and then turned her attention to Ron. With a soft gasp, she began helping the girls with Ron, easing him from their arms.

Esme stepped back, finally releasing the tension in her shoulders. She was terrified, but the relief of knowing they were safe was almost as overwhelming as the fear.

"Where's Potter?" McGonagall asked quickly, her voice tight with worry.

Esme's eyes blurred with tears, her words coming out in a rush as she took in a shaky breath. "Oh, Professor! He ran off toward the Forbidden Forest! Please, just get Harry-before it's too late!"

Esme's voice cracked, and she sobbed, her knees nearly buckling. She had never felt more helpless in her life. She couldn't lose Harry. Not now.

Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall exchanged quick, determined glances. Without another word, they set off toward the Forbidden Forest, their silhouettes disappearing into the shadows.

Filch and Madam Pomfrey guided them gently away from the scene, helping them back toward the safety of the castle. Esme barely noticed the castle walls closing in around her, her mind racing with thoughts of Harry, hoping that he was okay.

She didn't speak, couldn't speak. Her mind was locked on the fear that her worst nightmare was unfolding. And she wasn't there to stop it.

Despite everything. Despite following Harry around all year-the moment finally came down to it, and she still couldn't stop it.

No matter how hard she had tried.