HERMIONE SCREAMED. Black leapt to his feet. Harper jumped as though she'd received a huge electric shock.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," Snape said, throwing the Cloak aside, careful to keep his wand directly at Remus' chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you . . ."

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your Potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did . . . lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus—" Remus began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the Headmaster again and again that you've been helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout —"

"Severus, you're making a mistake," Remus said urgently. "You haven't heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," Snape said, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this . . . he was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin . . . a tame werewolf . . ."

"You fool," Remus said softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG! Thin, snake-like cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Remus' mouth, wrists and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move.

"No!" Harper exclaimed, dashing forward to help him, but Harry stopped her.

"With a roar of rage, Black started towards Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it and I swear I will."

Harper and Harry stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what do to or who to believe. She glanced around at Ron and Hermione. Ron looked just as confused as they did, still fighting to keep hold of the struggling Scabbers. Hermione, however, took an uncertain step towards Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape — it — it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, the Potters and Weasley are out of bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

"But if — if there was a mistake —"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you . . ."

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle —" he jerked his head at Ron, "— I'll come quietly . . ."

"Up to the castle?" Snape said silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black . . . pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay . . ."

What little color there was in Black's face left it.

"You — you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat — look at the rat —"

But there was a mad glint in Snape's eye that Harper had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

"Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cord that bound Remus flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him, too —"

Harper crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door.

"Get our of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," Snape snarled. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin —"

"You're going to let Remus go," she told him in a surprisingly steady voice. "He did nothing wrong."

"Get out of the way, Potter!"

Harper made up her mind in a split second. Before Snape could take even one step towards her, she had raised her wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Harper yelled — except that hers wasn't the only voice that shouted. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.

Harper looked around. Harry, Ron and Hermione had tried to disarm Snape at exactly the same moment. Snape's wand soared in a high arc and landed on the bed next to Crookshanks.

"You shouldn't have done that," Black said, looking at Harper. "You should have left him to me . . ."

Harper didn't reply as she made her way over to Remus, who was struggling against his bonds. Harper quickly untied him.

"Are you okay?" she quietly asked him.

"I'm fine, munchkin," he replied, giving her a quick hug. "Thanks for the save."

Harper smiled in his shoulder. "Anytime."

"We attached a teacher . . . we attacked a teacher . . ." Hermione whimpered, staring at the lifeless Snape with frightened eyes. "Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble —"

"It's time we offered you some proof," Black said. "You boy — give me Peter. Now."

Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest.

"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say you broke out of Azkaban just to get your hands on Scabbers? I mean . . ." he looked at Harry, Hermione and Harper for support. "OK, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," Remus said, turning to Black and frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"

Black put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat, and held out to show the others.

It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this?" Remus asked Black, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," Black said. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page . . . on this boy's shoulder . . . I knew him at once . . . how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts . . . to where Harry and Harper were . . ."

"My God," Remus said softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "His front paw . . ."

"What about it?" Ron said defiantly.

"He's got a toe missing," Black said.

"Of course," Remus breathed, "so simple . . . so brilliant . . . He cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," Black said. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty foot of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats . . ."

"Didn't you ever hear, Ron?" Remus said. "The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger."

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right —"

"Twelve years, in fact," Remus said. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We — we've been taking good care of him!" Ron said.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" Remus said. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again . . ."

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" Ron said, nodding towards Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.

But that wasn't right, Harper thought suddenly . . . Scabbers had been looking ill before he met Crookshanks . . . ever since Ron's return from Egypt . . . since the time when Black had escaped . . .

"This cat isn't mad," Black said hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks's fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was straight away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me. Finally, I managed to communicate with him what I was after, and he's been helping me . . ."

"What do you mean?" Hermione breathed.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't . . . so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me . . . As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table . . . But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it . . . this cat — Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets . . . I supposed be bit himself . . . well, faking his own death had worked once . . ."

"And why did he fake his dead?" Harry said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed our parents!"

"No," Remus said. "Harry —"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," Black said, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted.

"Harry," Remus said hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked Peter down —"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP, HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

He was pointing at Black, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly over-bright.

"Harry . . . I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret Keeper instead of me . . . I'm to blame, I know it . . . the night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And what I saw their house, destroyed and, their bodies — I realized what Peter must have done. What I'd done."

His voice broke and he turned away. Harper's eyes darted from Sirius to Remus to Sirius again. His emotions seemed true and if Remus said he was innocent, he must be, right?

"Enough of this," Remus said, and there was a steely note in his voice Harper had never heard before. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked Remus tensely.

"Force him to show himself," Remus said. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron hesitated, then at long last held out Scabbers and Remus took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head.

"Ready, Sirius?" Remus said.

Black has already retrieved Snape's wand from the bed. He approached Remus and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

"Together?" he said quietly.

"I think so," Remus said, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One — two — THREE!"

A flash of blue-white ligt erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in mid-air, his small black form twisting madly — Ron yelled — the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growning tree. A head was shooting upwards from the ground; limbs were sprouting; next moment, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed, the hair on his back standing up.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harper. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who had lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed noise, his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Harper saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

"Well, hello, Peter," Remus said unpleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see."

"S-Sirius . . . R-Remus . . ." Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted towards the door. "My friends . . . my old friends . . ."

Black's wand arm rose, buy Remus seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.

"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed—"

"Remus," Pettigrew gasped, and Harper could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, "you don't believe him, do you . . . He tried to kill me, Remus . . ."

"So we've heard," Remus said, more coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'd be so—"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew shriekened suddenly, pointing at Black, and Harper saw that he used his middle finger, because his index was missing. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me, too . . . you've got to help me, Remus . . ."

Black's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes.

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," Remus said.

"Sorted things out?" Pettigrew squealed, looking wildly around him once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" Remus said, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"

"He's got Dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He Who Must Not Be Named taught him a few tricks!"

Black started the laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.

"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" he said.

Pettigrew flinched as though Black has brandished a whip at him.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" Black said. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know — what you mean, Sirius —" Pettigrew muttered, his breath faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweet now.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," Black said. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter . . . they all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them . . . I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information . . . and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways . . . If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter—"

"Don't know . . . what you're talking about . . ." Pettigrew said again, more shrilly then ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Remus. "You don't believe this — this madness, Remus —"

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," Remus said evenly.

"Innocent, but scared!" Pettigrew squealed. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put on of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!"

Black's face contorted.

"How dare you," he growled, sounding suddenly like the bear-sized dog he had been. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter — I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us . . . me and Remus . . . and James . . ."

Pettigrew wipes his face again; he was almost panting for breath.

"Me, a spy . . . must be out of your mind . . . never . . . don't know how you can say such a —"

"Lily and James only made you Secret Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backwards. "I thought it was the perfect plan . . . a bluff . . . Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you . . . it must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; Harper caught words like 'far-fetched' and 'lunacy', but she couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew's face, and the way his eyes continued to dart towards the windows and door.

"Professor Lupin?" Hermione said timidly. "Can — can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione," Remus said courteously.

"Well — Scabbers — I mean, this — this man — he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There!" Pettigrew said shrilly, pointing at Hermione with his maimed hand. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"

"I'll tell you why," Black said. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for twelve years, they say he's half-dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wrench of a wizard who'd lost all his power, we're you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest the bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him . . ."

Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

"Er — Mr Black — Sirius?" Harper said.

Black jumped up at being addressed like this and stared at her as though being spoken to politely was something he'd long forgotten.

"If you don't mind me asking, how — how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" Pettigrew gasped, nodding frantically at Harper. "Exactly! Precisely what I —"

But Remus silenced him with a look. Black was frowning slightly at Harper, but not as though he was annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me . . . but it kept me sane and knowing who I am . . . helped me keep my powers . . . so when it all became . . . too much . . . I could transform in my cell . . . become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know . . ." He swallowed. "They feel their way towards people by sending their emotions . . . they could tell that my feelings were less — less human, less complex when I was a dog . . . but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand . . . But then I saw Peter in that picture . . . I realized he was at Hogwarts with you and Harry . . . perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again . . ."

Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Black as though hypnotized.

". . . ready to trike the moment he could be sure of allies . . . to deliver the laat Potters to them. If he gave them you and Harry, who'd dare say he betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors . . . So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive . . . It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it . . . it wasn't a happy feeling . . . it was an obsession . . . but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog . . . it's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused . . . I was thin, very thin . . . thin enough to slip trough the bars . . . I swam as a dog back to the mainland . . . I jouneyed north and slipped into Hogwarts grounds as a dog . . . I've been living in the Forest ever since . . . except when I come to watch the Quidditch, of course . . . the two of you fly as well as your father did."

He looked at Harper and Harry.

"Believe me," Black croaked. "Believe me. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

"I believe you," Harper said, while Harry just nodded.

"No!"

Pettigrew has fallen to his knees as though Harper's I believe you and Harry's nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forwards on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

"Sirius — it's me . . . it's Peter . . . your friend . . . you wouldn't . . ."

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," Black said.

"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Remus instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this . . . Wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," Remus said. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.

"Forgive me, Remus," Black said, looking down.

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," Remus said, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"

"Of course," Black said, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so," Remus said grimly.

"You wouldn't . . . you won't . . ." Pettigrew gasped. And he scrambled around to Ron. "Ron, haven't I been a good friend . . . a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you . . . you're on my side, aren't you?"

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the uttermost revulsion.

"I let you sleep in my bed!" he said.

"Kind boy . . . kind master . . ." Pettigrew crawled towards Ron, "you won't let them do it . . . I was your rat . . . I was a good pet . . ."

"If you made a better rat than human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," Black said harshly. Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forwards and seized the hem of Hermione's robes.

"Sweet girl . . . clever girl . . . you — you won't let them . . . help me . . ."

Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified. Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly towards Harry and Harper.

"Harry . . . Harry . . . you look just like your father . . . and Harper . . . Harper . . . you're just like your mother . . ."

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO THEM?" Black roared. "HOW DARE YOU FACE THEM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES AND LILY IN FRONT OF THEM?"

"Harry," Pettigrew whimpered, shuffling towards them, hands outstretched, "Harper, James wouldn't have wanted me killed . . . James would have understood, Harry, Harper . . . he would have shown mercy . . ."

Both Black and Remus strode forwards, seized Pettigrew's shoulders and threw him backwards onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"You solt Lily and James to Voldemort," Black said, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch: he looked like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord . . . you have no idea . . . he has weapons you can't imagine . . . I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen . . . He Who Must Not Be Named forced me —"

"DON'T LIE!" Black bellowed. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He — he was taking over everywhere!" Pettigrew gasped. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" Black said, with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" Pettigrew whined. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Black roared. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Black and Remus stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

"You should have realized," Remus said quietly. "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."

Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall. Harper held her breath. Were they actually going to do it?

"No!" Harry yelled. He ran forwards, placing himself in front of Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."

Black and Remus both look staggered while Harper frowned.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you and Harper have no parents," Black snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen the two of you die, too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know," Harry panted. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors. He can go to Azkaban . . . just don't kill him."

"Harry!" Pettigrew gasped, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You — thank you — it's more than I deserve — thank you —"

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because I don't reckon our father would've wanted his best friends to become killers — just for you."

"Plus," Harper added, taking a step forwards, "if you don't kill him, we can prove Sirius is innocent and is justice not better than vengeance?"

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Remus were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

"Becoming a free man does sound tempting," Black said.

"Very well," Remus said. "Stand aside, Harry."

Harry hesitated.

"I'm going to tie him up," Remus said. "That's all, I swear."

Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Remus' wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.

"But it you transform, Peter," Black growled, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew, too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harper, Harry?"

The two of them nodded.

"Right," Remus said, suddenly business-like. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."

He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand and muttered, "Ferula." Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Remus helped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.

"That's better," he said. "Thanks."

"What about Professor Snape?" Hermione said in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure.

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," Remus said, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. "You were just a little — over-enthusiastic. Still out cold. Er — perhaps if will be best if we don't revive him until we're safely back in the castle. We can take him like this . . ."

He muttered, "Mobilicorpus." As though invisible strings were tied to Snape's wrists, neck and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling. Remus picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into his pocket.

"And two of us should be chained to this," Black said, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it," Remus said.

"And me," Ron said savagely, limping forwards.

Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Remus' right, right arm to Ron's left. Ron's face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers's true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.

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January 9th 2024
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)