The Prisoner of Azkaban Read online

  ‘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!’ 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 his best friends 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 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. 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 – over-enthusiastic. Still out cold. Er – perhaps it 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. 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 forwards.

  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 bottle-brush tail held jauntily high.

  – CHAPTER TWENTY –

  The Dementors’ 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 contestants 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 Sirius, who was still making Snape drift along ahead of them; he kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling. Harry had the impression Sirius was making no effort to prevent this.

  ‘You know what this means?’ Sirius said abruptly to Harry, as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. ‘Turning Pettigrew in?’

  ‘You’re free,’ said Harry.

  ‘Yes …’ said Sirius. ‘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 Sirius stiffly. ‘If anything happened to them …’

  Harry waited. Did Sirius mean what he thought he meant?

  ‘I’ll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,’ said Sirius. ‘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 Sirius quickly. ‘I understand. I just thought I’d –’

  ‘Are you mad?’ said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Sirius’. ‘Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?’

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

  ‘You want to?’ he said. ‘You mean it?’

  ‘Yeah, I mean it!’ said Harry.

  Sirius’ 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 was shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognisable 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 upwards without any sound of savaging branches.

  Sirius 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?

  ‘One wrong move, Peter,’ said Lupin threateningly, ahead. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew’s chest.

  Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Sirius, his chin bumping on his chest. And then –

  A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.

  Snape collided with Lupin, Pettigrew and Ron, who had stopped abruptly. Sirius froze. He flung out an arm to make Harry and Hermione stop.

  Harry could see Lupin’s silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

  ‘Oh my –‘ Hermione gasped. ‘He didn’t take his Potion tonight! He’s not safe!’

  ‘Run,’ Sirius whispered. ‘Run! Now!’

  But Harry couldn’t run. Ron was chained to Pettigrew and Lupin. He leapt forwards but Sirius caught him around the chest and threw him back.

  ‘Leave it to me – RUN!’

  There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin’s head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks’s fur was on end again, he was backing away –

  As the werewolf reared, sna
pping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry’s side. He had transformed. The enormous, bear-like dog bounded forwards. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backwards, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other –

  Harry stood, transfixed by the sight; too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Hermione’s scream that alerted him –

  Pettigrew had dived for Lupin’s dropped wand. Ron, unsteady on his bandaged leg, fell. There was a bang, a burst of light – and Ron lay motionless on the ground. Another bang – Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.

  ‘Expelliarmus!’ Harry yelled, pointing his own wand at Pettigrew; Lupin’s wand flew high into the air and out of sight. ‘Stay where you are!’ Harry shouted, running forwards.

  Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. Harry saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron’s outstretched arm, and heard a scurrying through the grass.

  There was a howl and a rumbling growl; Harry turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the Forest –

  ‘Sirius, he’s gone, Pettigrew transformed!’ Harry yelled.

  Sirius was bleeding; there were gashes across his muzzle and back, but at Harry’s words he scrambled up again, and in an instant, the sound of his paws was fading to silence as he pounded away across the grounds.

  Harry and Hermione dashed over to Ron.

  ‘What did he do to him?’ Hermione whispered. Ron’s eyes were only half-closed; his mouth hung open. He was definitely alive, they could hear him breathing, but he didn’t seem to recognise them.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Harry looked desperately around. Black and Lupin both gone … they had no one but Snape for company, still hanging, unconscious, in mid-air.

  ‘We’d better get them up to the castle and tell someone,’ said Harry, pushing his hair out of his eyes, trying to think straight. ‘Come –’

  But then, out of the darkness, they heard a yelping, a whining; a dog in pain …

  ‘Sirius,’ Harry muttered, staring into the darkness.

  He had a moment’s indecision, but there was nothing they could do for Ron at the moment, and by the sound of it, Black was in trouble –

  Harry set off at a run, Hermione right behind him. The yelping seemed to be coming from near the lake. They pelted towards it, and Harry, running flat out, felt the cold without realising what it must mean –

  The yelping stopped abruptly. As they reached the lake’s shore they saw why – Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.

  ‘Nooo,’ he moaned. ‘Noooo …. please …’

  And then Harry saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake towards them. He spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them …

  ‘Hermione, think of something happy!’ Harry yelled, raising his wand, blinking furiously to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it –

  I’m going to live with my godfather. I’m leaving the Dursleys.

  He forced himself to think of Sirius, and only Sirius, and began to chant: ‘Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!’

  Black gave a shudder, rolled over and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.

  He’ll be all right. I’m going to go and live with him.

  ‘Expecto patronum! Hermione, help me! Expecto patronum!’

  ‘Expecto –’ Hermione whispered, ‘expecto – expecto –’

  But she couldn’t do it. The Dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Harry and Hermione, and were getting closer …

  ‘EXPECTO PATRONUM!’ Harry yelled, trying to blot the screaming from his ears. ‘EXPECTO PATRONUM!’

  A thin wisp of silver escaped his wand and hovered like mist before him. At the same moment, Harry felt Hermione collapse next to him. He was alone … completely alone …

  ‘Expecto – expecto patronum –’

  Harry felt his knees hit the cold grass. Fog was clouding his eyes. With a huge effort, he fought to remember – Sirius was innocent – innocent – we’ll be OK – I’m going to live with him –

  ‘Expecto patronum!’ he gasped.

  By the feeble light of his formless Patronus, he saw a Dementor halt, very close to him. It couldn’t walk through the cloud of silver mist Harry had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside.

  ‘No – no –’ Harry gasped. ‘He’s innocent … expecto – expecto patronum –’

  He could feel them watching him, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around him. The nearest Dementor seemed to be considering him. Then it raised both its rotting hands – and lowered its hood.

  Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, grey, scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth … a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death-rattle.

  A paralysing terror filled Harry so that he couldn’t move or speak. His Patronus flickered and died.

  White fog was blinding him. He had to fight … expecto patronum … he couldn’t see … and in the distance, he heard the familiar screaming … expecto patronum … he groped in the mist for Sirius, and found his arm … they weren’t going to take him …

  But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly wrapped themselves around Harry’s neck. They were forcing his face upwards … he could feel its breath … it was going to get rid of him first … he could feel its putrid breath … his mother was screaming in his ears … she was going to be the last thing he ever heard –

  And then, through the fog that was drowning him, he thought he saw a silvery light, growing brighter and brighter … he felt himself fall forwards onto the grass –

  Face down, too weak to move, sick and shaking, Harry opened his eyes. The blinding light was illuminating the grass around him … The screaming had stopped, the cold was ebbing away …

  Something was driving the Dementors back … it was circling around him and Sirius and Hermione … the rattling, sucking sounds of the Dementors were fading. They were leaving … the air was warm again …

  With every ounce of strength he could muster, Harry raised his head a few inches and saw an animal amidst the light, galloping away across the lake. Eyes blurred with sweat, Harry tried to make out what it was … it was bright as a unicorn. Fighting to stay conscious, Harry watched it canter to a halt as it reached the opposite shore. For a moment, Harry saw, by its brightness, somebody welcoming it back … raising his hand to pat it … someone who looked strangely familiar … but it couldn’t be …

  Harry didn’t understand. He couldn’t think any more. He felt the last of his strength leave him, and his head hit the ground as he fainted.

  – CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE –

  Hermione’s Secret

  ‘Shocking business … shocking … miracle none of them died … never heard the like … by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape …’

  ‘Thank you, Minister.’

  ‘Order of Merlin, Second Class, I’d say. First Class, if I can wangle it!’

  ‘Thank you very much indeed, Minister.’

  ‘Nasty cut you’ve got there … Black’s work, I suppose?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, it was Potter, Weasley and Granger, Minister …’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behaviour. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren’t responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape … they obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. They’ve got aw
ay with a great deal before now … I’m afraid it’s given them a rather high opinion of themselves … and of course Potter has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of licence by the Headmaster –’

  ‘Ah, well, Snape … Harry Potter, you know … we’ve all got a bit of a blind spot where he’s concerned.’

  ‘And yet – is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally I try to treat him like any other student. And any other student would be suspended – at the very least – for leading his friends into such danger. Consider, Minister: against all school rules – after all the precautions put in place for his protection – out of bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer – and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally, too –’

  ‘Well, well … we shall see, Snape, we shall see … the boy has undoubtedly been foolish …’

  Harry lay listening with his eyes tight shut. He felt very groggy. The words he was hearing seemed to be travelling very slowly from his ears to his brain, so that it was difficult to understand. His limbs felt like lead; his eyelids too heavy to lift … he wanted to lie here, on this comfortable bed, for ever …

  ‘What amazes me most is the behaviour of the Dementors … you’ve really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?’

  ‘No, Minister. By the time I had come round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances …’

  ‘Extraordinary. And yet Black, and Harry, and the girl –’

  ‘All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers and brought them all straight back to the castle.’

  There was a pause. Harry’s brain seemed to be moving a little faster, and as it did, a gnawing sensation grew in the pit of his stomach …

  He opened his eyes.

  Everything was slightly blurred. Somebody had removed his glasses. He was lying in the dark hospital wing. At the very end of the ward, he could make out Madam Pomfrey with her back to him, bending over a bed. Harry squinted. Ron’s red hair was visible beneath Madam Pomfrey’s arm.