HP 3 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban Read online

  “Don’t know what you mean, Sirius —” muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

  “You haven’t been hiding from me for twelve years,” said Black. “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…” said Pettigrew again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Lupin. “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,” said Lupin evenly.

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

  Black’s face contorted.

  “How dare you,” he growled, sounding suddenly like the bearsized 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 wiped 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 backward. “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; Harry caught words like “far-fetched” and “lunacy,” but he couldn’t help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew’s face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door.

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

  “Certainly, Hermione,” said Lupin 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!” said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Ron 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,” said Black. “Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort’s been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he’s half dead. You weren’t about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore’s nose, for a wreck of a wizard who’d lost all of his power, were you? You’d want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn’t you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? 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?” said Hermione.

  Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her.

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

  “Thank you!” gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at her. “Exactly! Precisely what I —”

  But Lupin silenced him with a look. Black was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he were 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 toward people by feeding off 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 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 strike at the moment he could be sure of allies…and to deliver the last Potter to them. if he gave them Harry, who’d dare say he’d 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…”

  Harry remembered what Mr. Weasley had told Mrs. Wealsey. ‘The guards say he’s been talking in his sleep… always the same words… ‘He’s at Hogwarts.’’

  “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 through the bars…I swam as a dog back to the mainland …I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I’ve been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry….”

  He looked at Harry, who did not look away.

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

  And at long last, Harry believed him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.

  “No!”

  Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry’s nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward 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,” said Black.

  “Remus!” Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin 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,” said Lupin. “I assume that’s why you didn’t tell me, Sirius?” he said casually over Pettigrew’s head.

  “Forgive me, Remus,” said Black.

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

  “Of course,” said Black, 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,” said Lupin grimly.

  “You wouldn’t…you won’t…” gasped Pettigrew. 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 utmost revulsion.

  “I let you sleep in my bed!” he said.

  “Kind boy…kind master…” Pettigrew crawled toward Ron “You won’t let them do it…I was your rat…I was a good pet….”

  “If you made a better rat than a human, it’s not much to boast about, Peter,” said Black harshly. Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew’s reach. Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forward, 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 toward Harry.

  “Harry…Harry…you look just like your father…just like him…”

  “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?” roared Black. “HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?”

  “Harry,” whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. “Harry, James wouldn’t have wanted me killed…James would have understood, Harry…he would have shown me mercy…”

  Both Black and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew’s shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

  “You sold Lily and James to Voldemort,” said Black, who was shaking too. “Do you deny it?”

  Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, 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!” bellowed Black. “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!” gasped Pettigrew. “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?” said Black, with a terrible fury in his face. “Only innocent lives, Peter!”

  “You don’t understand!” whined Pettigrew. “He would have killed me, Sirius!”

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

  Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

  “You should have realized,” said Lupin quietly, “if Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter.”

  Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall.

  “NO!” Harry yelled. He ran forward, placing himself in front Pettigrew, facing the wands. “You can’t kill him,” he said breathlessly. “You can’t.”

  Black and Lupin both looked staggered.

  “Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents,” Black snarled. “This cringing bit of filth would have seen 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…but don’t kill him.”

  “Harry!” gasped Pettigrew, 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 my dad would’ve wanted them to become killers — just for you.”

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

  “You’re the only person who has the right to decide, Harry,” said Black. “But think… think what he did….”

  “He can go to Azkaban,” Harry repeated. “If anyone deserves that place, he does….”

  Pettigrew was still wheezing behind him.

  “Very well,” said Lupin. “Stand aside, Harry.”

  Harry hesitated.

  “I’m going to tie him up,” said Lupin. “That’s all, I swear.”

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

  “But if you transform, Peter,” growled Black, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew too, “we will kill you. You agree, Harry?”

  Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.

  “Right,” said Lupin, suddenly businesslike. “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. Lupin 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?” said Hermione in a small voice, looking down at Snape’s prone figure.

  “There’s nothing seriously wrong with him,” said Lupin, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. “You were just a little — overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don’t revive him until we’re safety 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. Lupin picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into his pocket.

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

  “I’ll do it,” said Lupin.

  “And me,” said Ron savagely, limping forward.

  Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Lupin’s 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.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THE DEMENTOR’S KISS

  Harry had never been part of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron went next, looking like entrants in a six-legged race. Next came Professor Snape, drifting creepily along, his toes hitting each stair as they descended, held up by his own wand, which was being pointed at him by Sirius. Harry and Hermione brought up the rear.

  Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron had to turn sideways to manage it; Lupin still had Pettigrew covered with his wand. Harry could see them edging awkwardly along the tunnel in single file. Crookshanks was still in the lead. Harry went right after Black, who was still making Snape drift along ahead of them; he kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling. Harry had the impression Black was making no effort to prevent this.

  “You know what this means?” Black said abruptly to Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. “Turning Pettigrew in?”

  “You’re free,” said Harry.

  “Yes…” said Black. “But I’m also — I don’t know if anyone ever told you — I’m your godfather.”

  “Yeah, I knew that,” said Harry.

  “Well… your parents appointed me your guardian,” said Black stiffly. “If anything happened to them…”

 
; Harry waited. Did Black mean what he thought he meant?

  “I’ll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,” said Black. “But… well… think about it. Once my name’s cleared… if you wanted a… a different home…”

  Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry’s stomach.

  “What — live with you?” he said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. “Leave the Dursleys?”

  “Of course, I thought you wouldn’t want to,” said Black quickly. “I understand, I just thought I’d —”

  “Are you insane?” said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Black’s. “Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?”

  Black turned right around to look at him; Snape’s head was scraping the ceiling but Black didn’t seem to care.

  “You want to?” he said. “You mean it?”

  “Yeah, I mean it!” said Harry.

  Black’s gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at Harry’s parents’ wedding.

  They did not speak again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.

  Black saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for Harry and Hermione to pass. At last, all of them were out.

  The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. Harry’s mind was buzzing. He was going to leave the Dursleys. He was going to live with Sirius Black, his parents’ best friend…. He felt dazed…. What would happen when he told the Dursleys he was going to live with the convict they’d seen on television…!