CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MOONY, WORMTAIL,
PADDFOOT, AND PRONGS
It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to
sink in. Then Ron voiced what Harry was thinking.
“You're both
mental.”
“Ridiculous!” said Hermione faintly.
“Peter Pettigrew's dead!”
said Harry. “He killed him twelve years ago!” He pointed at Black, whose face
twitched convulsively.
“I meant to,” he growled, his yellow teeth bared, “but
little Peter got the better of me... not this time, though!”
And Crookshanks
was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as
Black's weight fell on his broken leg.
. "Sirius, NO!” Lupin yelled,
launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, “WAIT! You
can't do it just like that—they need to understand—we've got to explain
—”
“We can explain afterwards!” snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off. One
hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing
like a piglet, scratching Ron's face and neck as he tried to
escape.
“They've—got—a—right—to—know—-everything!” Lupin panted, still trying
to restrain Black. “Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't
understand, and Harry—you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!”
Black stopped
struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was
clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, ad bleeding hands.
“All right,
then,” Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat.
“Tell them whatever
you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned
for...”
“You're nutters, both of you,” said Ron shakily, looking round at
Harry and Hermione for support. “I've had enough of this. I'm off.”
He tried
to heave himself up on his good leg, but Lupin raised his wand again, pointing
it at Scabbers.
“You're going to hear me out, Ron,” he said quietly. “Just
keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen.”
“HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S
SCABBERS!” Ron yelled, trying to fore the rat back into his front pocket, but
Scabbers was fighting to hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him
am pushed him back down to the bed. Then, ignoring Black, Harry turned to
Lupin.
There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die,” he said. “A whole street
full of them...”
“They didn't see what they thought they saw!” said Black
savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ron's hands.
“Everyone
thought Sirius killed Peter,” said Lupin, nodding. “I believed it myself—until I
saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies... Peter's alive.
Ron's holding him, Harry.”
Harry looked down at Ron, and as their eyes met,
they agreed, silently: Black and Lupin were both out of their minds. Their story
made no sense whatsoever. How could Scabbers be Peter Pettigrew? Azkaban must
have unhinged Black after all—but why was Lupin playing along with him?
Then
Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to
will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly.
“But Professor Lupin... Scabbers can't
be Pettigrew... it just can't be true, you know it can't...”
“Why can't it be
true?” Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply
spotted a problem in an experiment with grindylows.
“Because... because
people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in
class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework—the
Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals;
there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and
things... and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and
there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on
the list.”
Harry had barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort
Hermione put into her homework, when Lupin started to laugh.
“Light again,
Hermione!” he said. “But the Ministry never knew that here used to be three
unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts.”
“I you're going to tell them
the story, get a move on, Remus,” said Black, who was still watching Scabbers's
every desperate move. “I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much
longer.”
“All right... but you'll need to help me, Sirius,” said Lupin, I
only know how it began...”
Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak
behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them
stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the
landing.
“No one there...”
“This place is haunted!” said Ron.
“It's
not,” said Lupin, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. “The Shrieking
Shack was never haunted... The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were
made by me.”
He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment
then said, “That's where all of this starts—with my becoming a werewolf, None of
this could have happened if I hadn't been bitter... and if I hadn't been so
foolhardy...”
He looked sober and tired. Ron started to interrupt, but
Hermione, said, “Shh!” She was watching Lupin very intently.
“I as a very
small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those
days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me
is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in
the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform... I'm able
to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane
again.
“Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully
fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come
to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to
me.
“But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said
that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't
come to school...” Lupin sighed, and looked directly at Harry. “I told you,
months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts.
The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house”—Lupin
looked miserably around the room,—”the tunnel that leads to it—they were built
for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to
transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across
me while I was dangerous.”
Harry couldn't see where this story was going, but
he was listening raptly all the same. The only sound apart from Lupin's voice
was Scabbers's frightened squeaking.
“My transformations in those days
were—were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated
from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard
the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent
spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor... Even now, when the house has been
silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it...”
“But apart from my
transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first
time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black... Peter
Pettigrew... and, of course, your father, Harry—James Potter.”
“Now, my three
friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up
all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home
to see her... I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out
what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the
truth...”
“And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for
me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of
my life. They became Animagi.”
“My dad too?” said Harry, astounded.
“Yes,
indeed,” said Lupin. “It took them the best part of three years to work out how
to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school,
and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly
wrong—one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it.
Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our
fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at
will.”
“But how did that help you?” said Hermione, sounding puzzled.
“They
couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals,” said
Lupin. “A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle
every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed... Peter, as the
smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot
that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their
influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind
seemed to become less so while I was with them.”
“Hurry up, Remus,” snarled
Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his
face.
“I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there... well, highly exciting
possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were
leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by
night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to
keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out
more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did... And that's how we
came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is
Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs.”
“What sort of animal —?” Harry
began, but Hermione cut him off.
“That was still really dangerous! Running
around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and
bitten somebody?”
“A thought that still haunts me,” said Lupin heavily. “And
there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were
young, thoughtless—carried away with our own cleverness.”
I sometimes felt
guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course... he had admitted me to
Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was
breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew
I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always
managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next
month's adventure. And I haven't changed...”
Lupin's face had hardened, and
there was self-disgust in his voice. “All this year, I have been battling with
myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus.
But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant
admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd
led others along with me... and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me.
He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned
all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I
convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he
learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it... so,
in a way, Snape's been right about me all along.”
“Snape?” said Black
harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking
up at Lupin. “What's Snape got to do with it?”
“He's here, Sirius,” said
Lupin heavily. “He's teaching here as well.” He looked up at Harry, Ron, and
Hermione.
“Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against
my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling
Dumbledore A year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons... you see,
Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which
involved me —”
Black made a derisive noise.
“It served him right,” he
sneered. “Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to... hoping he
could get us expelled...”
“Severus was very interested in where I went every
month.” Lupin told Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “We were in the same year, you
know, and we—er—didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James.
Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field... anyway Snape had
seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward
the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be—er—amusing, to tell
Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick,
and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it—if he'd got
as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf—but your father,
who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great
risk to his life... Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was
forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I
was...”
“So that's why Snape doesn't like you,” said Harry slowly, “because
he thought you were in on the joke?”
“That's right,” sneered a cold voice
from the wall behind Lupin.
Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility
Cloak, his wand pointing, directly at Lupin.
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