The atmosphere in the Gryffindor common room was gloomy, mirroring the dull gray sky visible through the tower window. The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting shadows on the walls, but it failed to warm the spirits of the three students sitting in the farthest armchairs, away from the rest of their classmates.
Harry Potter stared at the flames with his jaw clenched, while Hermione Granger turned the pages of a book without really reading any of the words, her gaze lost between the pages. Ron Weasley, with Scabbers apparently asleep on his lap (in reality, the rat was stiff with terror, as it had been since the beginning of the year), nervously played with the hem of his robe.
"It was useless," Hermione finally muttered, closing the book with a sharp snap that startled several first-year students. "All the appeals, the research on precedent cases involving hippogriffs... Lucius Malfoy has the Committee in his pocket."
Ron let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back in his chair.
"Dad wrote to me this morning. He said he tried to talk to some members of the Department, but Fudge won't listen. He says that with Black on the loose and the problems on the continent, the public needs to see that the Ministry is 'strong' and 'decisive.' Apparently, killing an innocent creature is his most heroic way of demonstrating strength."
Harry clenched his fists on his knees. The image of Hagrid, sobbing in his hut while stroking Buckbeak's beak with his huge, trembling hands, was burned into his mind.
"At least we'll be with him," Harry said hoarsely, his voice thick with helplessness. "At least Hagrid knows he won't be alone in this. It's the only thing we can do... give him moral support, sit there and tell him everything will be all right, even though we know it's a lie."
"It's unfair," Hermione muttered, her eyes shining with indignation as she held back her tears. "It's cruel, it's... dirty politics. Malfoy is only doing this to hurt Hagrid and Dumbledore. He doesn't care about anyone's safety. If only there was someone powerful enough to stop him, someone Fudge was afraid to contradict."
Ron opened his mouth, and for a second it looked like he was going to mention Aurelian again, but remembering Hagrid's violent reaction in the hut and the genuine fear in his eyes when he spoke of him, he decided to keep quiet. It wasn't worth opening that wound again.
Silence fell upon them once more, heavy and suffocating, but this time it was laden with the name that no one wanted to say but everyone was thinking.
"Black is close," Harry said suddenly, breaking the silence. He wasn't looking at his friends, but at the flame, as if he could see the prisoner's face forming in the embers. "He entered the castle. He tore the portrait of the Fat Lady as if it were paper. He was so close to us."
Hermione shuddered visibly, hugging herself.
"Harry, please... the teachers have increased security. They've put Sir Cadogan and the ghosts on patrol around the grounds... Dumbledore won't let him back in."
"But he got in, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, turning to her with an intensity that made her recoil. "And I don't care about security. He's mad. Everyone says so. He's not afraid of Dementors, he's not afraid of Dumbledore. He was Voldemort's most loyal follower."
Harry's voice trembled as he uttered the name, not out of fear but out of pure rage.
"Black betrayed my parents..." he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He sold them out as if they were nothing. He ate at their table, smiled in their photos... and then went straight to his Master to tell him where they were."
Ron looked at Harry with concern. He had never seen him like this, so consumed by hatred.
"Harry... mate, you have to be careful. Black is dangerous. He killed thirteen people with a single spell. If he finds you..."
"Let him find me!" Harry interrupted fiercely, standing up. The shadow of the fire lengthened his figure, giving him a much more adult and somber appearance. "I hope he does! Because I'm not like my father, I'm not going to trust him. When I have him in front of me, I'm not going to run, Ron."
"Harry..." Hermione whispered, horrified. "You're not thinking of..."
"I want to avenge them, no... I will avenge them," Harry said, ignoring her, his green eyes burning. "He took my family away from me. He condemned me to live with the Dursleys. He took everything from me. If I get the chance... if I see him... I swear I'll kill him."
Scabbers on Ron's lap shuddered violently, digging his little claws into the redhead's leg as if he had received an electric shock.
"Ouch!" Ron groaned, rubbing his thigh and looking at his pet. "Scabbers, you damn rat... Harry, you scared my pet. I think he can sense your tension. Just calm down a little."
Harry snorted, running a hand through his tousled hair as he tried to control his breathing.
"Everyone should be scared, Ron. Black is out there, and he won't stop until he finishes what he started that night."
What Harry didn't know as he stared furiously at the dark window was that the story he thought he knew was a lie woven twelve years ago and that the real traitor, the real killer of his parents, wasn't out there in the woods howling at the moon, but trembling with fear in his best friend's pocket.
The sun began to descend toward the hills, staining the sky a blood red that heralded the end of the day... and the end of time for Buckbeak.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking back to the castle, skirting the edge of the forest near the Whomping Willow. The mood was one of pure sadness. Scabbers in Ron's pocket was squealing frantically, writhing and biting the fabric as if he were having a seizure.
"Stay still, you stupid rat!" Ron complained, clutching his chest and grimacing in pain. "You're hurting me!"
"Ron, I think you should have left her in the castle... he looks very sick," Hermione said in a worried voice, although her eyes were red from crying for Hagrid.
"I can't leave her, with that cat of yours around and..."
Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed behind them. Harry spun around, his hand instinctively reaching for his wand. A black shadow shot out from the bushes. It wasn't a wolf, nor a bear. It was a dog. The same giant black dog Harry had seen in Little Whinging at the beginning of the school year.
"Harry!" Hermione screamed.
The dog wasn't going for Harry. It ran past him, leaping with brutal force that threw him to the ground and lunging directly at Ron.
"AAAHHH!" Ron screamed as the dog's jaws closed around his leg.
"RON!" Harry bellowed, jumping to his feet and running toward them.
But the dog was incredibly strong. It pulled Ron like a rag doll, dragging him across the grass straight toward the roots of the Whomping Willow.
"Harry! Help me!" Ron yelled, digging his fingers into the dirt, leaving furrows as he was dragged toward the darkness of a hole between the roots. "AHHH!"
"Let go!" Harry yelled, lunging forward. He managed to grab Ron's hand just as he entered the tunnel, but the momentum was too much. The dog jerked violently, and Ron's hand slipped from Harry's.
A second later, Ron and the dog disappeared into the darkness of the earth.
Harry and Hermione stood frozen for a moment just before the Whomping Willow came to life and a branch as thick as a tree trunk swept through the air, forcing them to throw themselves to the ground.
"We have to get in!" Harry shouted, dodging another blow.
After a desperate struggle against the violent tree, they managed to slip through the tunnel. They ran crouched down, their hearts pounding, until the tunnel began to rise.
They emerged into a dilapidated room, covered in dust and peeling wallpaper.
The Shrieking Shack.
"Ron!" Harry called.
"Get out quickly!" Ron moaned from a corner. He was sitting on an old four-poster bed, hugging his bloody leg. His face was pale with terror. "Harry, it's a trap! It's him! He's an Animagus!" he said, pointing at something.
Harry followed Ron's trembling finger. A man emerged from the shadows, pushing open a broken door. His hair was matted and dirty, his skin clinging to his bones, and his eyes gleamed with a maniacal look.
Sirius Black.
"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too," Hermione said in a trembling voice, stepping in front of Harry.
"No..." Black croaked, his voice still hoarse. "Only one will die tonight."
Fury exploded in Harry's chest.
"It will be you!" he shouted, pushing Hermione aside and raising his wand. "You killed them! You betrayed them!"
Harry lunged forward, driven by pure hatred for Black. Weakened by Azkaban, Black was unable to react in time as Harry knocked him down, pointing his wand directly at his throat.
"Tell me why!" Harry roared, his wand trembling in his hand. "They were your friends!"
Black looked up at him from the floor. For a moment, there was no madness in his eyes, only infinite sadness.
"They are... Harry... they are..."
"EXPELLIARMUS!" another voice shouted.
Harry's wand flew out of his hand. Professor Lupin stood in the doorway, wand raised, breathing heavily.
"Get away from him, Harry," Lupin said tensely.
"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's him! It's Black! Help us!"
Lupin did not look at the children. His eyes were fixed on Black, who was lying on the floor bleeding from a cut on his eyebrow.
"Do you know where he is, Sirius?" Lupin asked, with a strange urgency.
Black raised a trembling hand and pointed at Ron.
"He's there... Remus... he's there..."
Lupin slowly lowered his wand and then, to the trio's horror, reached out and helped Black to his feet, hugging him briefly as if he were a long-lost brother.
"NO!" Hermione screamed. "I trusted you! He's a murderer!"
"Hermione, calm down..." Lupin tried to say, turning to Ron. "Ron, give me the rat."
"What?" Ron hugged Scabbers to his chest, protecting her. "Scabbers? What does my rat have to do with any of this? You're crazy!"
"He's not a rat," said Sirius in a raspy voice, approaching with his eyes fixed on the animal. "He was our friend... an Animagus. His name is Peter Pettigrew."
"Peter Pettigrew is dead!" Harry shouted. "You killed him!"
"I tried to kill him!" Black roared, with a ferocity that made them all recoil. "But the little vermin got away! He cut off his finger before he flew down the street!"
"Prove it," Harry said defiantly.
Lupin and Sirius exchanged a glance. Without warning, they both cast a spell at the rat writhing in Ron's hands.
A flash of blue and white light struck Scabbers. The rat was suspended in midair, its body stretching and distorting. It fell to the floor, and where the rodent had been, there was now a very short man with watery eyes, dirty-looking skin, and a receding hairline. He was also missing a finger on his right hand.
Peter Pettigrew.
Ron screamed, backing away toward the wall.
Pettigrew looked around, breathing heavily, sweat running down his face. His eyes darted from Sirius to Lupin, then to Harry.
"Harry!" he squealed in a high-pitched voice, lunging toward him. "Look at you, Harry! You're just like your father! James wouldn't have let them kill me! He would forgive me!"
Black and Lupin intercepted him, pushing him toward the center of the room with their wands.
"How could you?" Lupin asked, his voice trembling with pain. "James and Lily loved you, Peter. They trusted you."
Pettigrew began to sob, wringing his hands.
"You don't understand!" he cried, his tears mixing with sweat. "You have no idea! The Dark Lord... he... he knows everything! He's everywhere!"
He turned to Sirius, his eyes wide with fear.
"You don't know what it's like to face him, Sirius!" Peter screamed hysterically. "You're the brave one, not me! He's no ordinary wizard! His power... it's immense!"
Peter fell to his knees, shaking violently, remembering the crushing sensation he had felt from Voldemort.
"He's an Archmage!" Peter shouted, spitting out the words with reverential terror. "The most powerful Archmage of all time! His magic bent the air! No one can say no to him! No one! What would you have done? Huh? Refused? He would have killed me! He would have tortured me if I said no!"
"I would have died!" Sirius roared, lunging at him, held back only by Lupin's arm. "I would have died before betraying my friends! We would have done that!"
Pettigrew cowered on the floor, whimpering pathetically.
"His power is absolute!" Peter stammered, staring into space as if he could see the Dark Lord standing before him. "He cannot be defeated! Not even Dumbledore understands the magnitude of his magic! I just wanted to live! I'm just a rat!"
The confession hung in the air, heavy and dirty. Harry looked at the man who had sold his parents out of fear, the man who had lived in his friend's pocket, and felt a deep disgust. Sirius raised his wand (the one he had taken from Harry in the struggle or the one Lupin had passed him, he wasn't sure), and his hand did not tremble.
"Then you should have died, Peter," Black said coldly, pointing at him before attacking him. "Because if the Dark Lord didn't kill you... you should have known that we would."
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