Hermione screamed. Black
leapt to his feet. Harry jumped as though he’d
received a huge electric shock.

“I found this as the base of the
Whomping Willow,” said Snape, throwing the Cloak aside, careful to keep his
wand pointing at Lupin’s chest. “Very useful, Potter, I thank you…”

Snape was slightly breathless,
and he seemed torn between triumph and abject fury.

“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 –”
Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

“I’ve told the Headmaster again
and again that you’ve been helping your old friend into the castle Lupin, and
here’s the proof. I’d almost begun to believe that Amelia’s
opinion of you – but here you are!” he spat. “Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your
hideout –”

“Severus, you’re
making a mistake,” said Lupin, urgently. “You haven’t heard everything – I can
explain – Sirius is not here to kill Harry –”

“Two more for Azkaban tonight,”
said Snape slowly, his eyes flashing with rage. “I shall be interested how
Dumbledore takes this… he was quite convinced you were harmless, you know,
Lupin… a tame werewolf…” he took a step forward. “And then there’s Amelia…
poor Amelia, wanting so much to believe you were
honest, but you’ve let her down, Lupin.”

Remus tensed, and began to growl,
very quietly; behind him, Sirius looked confused for the first time.

“Severus, you
leave her out of this,” the werewolf growled.

“As I said once before, she is my
friend… and you have been just as treacherous now as you were in school.
Remember Lily?”

Sirius stared at his old friend.

“Lily?”
he asked, slowly.

“You fool,” growled Lupin 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 Lupin’s mouth,
wrists and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. 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.”

Black stopped
dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

Harry
and Ron were watching all this with wide eyes,
entirely bewildered; Hermione though, took a hesitant step forward. She had to
believe, for Amelia’s sake, that Remus had been
honest – and despite her own anger she disliked the way that Severus
was treating him. She had begun to think of them both as the most bizarre pair
of uncles imaginable… she had to try.

“Professor
Snape,” she began breathlessly. “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 snapped, his eyes still on Black. “You, Potter and
Weasley are out of bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a
werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue!”

“But if – if there was a
mistake…”

But Snape was beyond reaching,
his hatred of Black and the keen sense of betrayal he felt on behalf of himself
and Amelia was coursing through him.

“KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!” he
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
pointing at Black’s face. Hermione fell silent, afraid of what she might make
him do.

“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,”
snarled Black. “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?” said Snape
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 colour there was in
Black’s face left it; on the floor, Remus renewed his struggle with the ropes
that bound him.

“You – you’ve got to hear me
out,” Black croaked. “The rat – look at the rat –”

But there was a glint in Snape’s
eye that Hermione had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

“Come on, all of you,” he said.
He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his
hands. “I’ll drag the werewolf.”

To Hermione’s surprise, Harry
moved swiftly across the room and blocked the door.

“Get out of the way, Potter,
you’re in enough trouble already,” snarled Snape. “If I hadn’t been here to
save your skin –”

“Professor
Lupin could have killed me about a hundred
times this year,” Harry said. “I’ve been alone
with him loads of times, having defence lessons against the Dementors. If he
was helping Black, why didn’t he just finish me off then?”

“Don’t ask me to fathom the way a
werewolf’s mind works,” Snape hissed. “Get out of the way, Potter.”

“YOU’RE PATHETIC!” Harry
yelled. “JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON’T EVEN LISTEN
–”

“SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO
LIKE THAT!” Snape shouted, deeply offended. “Like father, like son, Potter! I
have just saved your neck, you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would
have been well served if he’d killed you! You’d have died like your father, too
arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black – now get out of the way, or
I will make you, GET OUT OF THE WAY POTTER!”

0o0o0o0

Amelia
finished off the last of the third year papers with a flourish and a yawn.
Stretching, she rose, before gathering up the pile and heading down the main
staircase to Minerva’s office. As she waited for the staircase
in front of her to decide where it was going, she looked out over the lake. The
sun was setting, spilling blood red light over the darkening grounds. She
shivered; in all likelihood, Buckbeak was dying out there, somewhere in the
crimson tide of darkness.

Sickened, she continued towards
the deputy headmistress’s quarters and knocked lightly on the wood.

“Come in.”

Amelia
pushed the door open with her shoulder and deposited the sheaf of exam papers
on a specially cleared shelf. There were already a few stacks of papers in
random positions.

Minerva
McGonagall was stood by the window, looking
out to the sunset. Sighing, the older witch turned to her.

“Forgive me, I was just thinking
about Rubeus.”

Amelia
nodded.

“Perhaps we should go down tomorrow
to see he’s alright, he seems awfully attached to Beaky,” she shrugged
helplessly. “It seems so cruel to ask for his death… If the boy had only paid
attention to Hagrid’s instructions instead of trying to impress his cronies
then none of this would have happened,” she finished, hotly.

Minerva, who had
of course taken the view that Hagrid should have kept a closer eye on his
students, had to agree. She sat down heavily in her chair.

“I’d best be off,” said Amelia
sadly. “I promised Remus I’d sit with him tonight.”

Minerva smiled
at her.

“You’re good for him, you know –
and he for you. It’s pleasant to see the two of you so happy.”

Amelia
grinned, despite herself.

“As you’re heading that way,
would you mind taking him Martin’s scripts for
second marking?”

“No problem,” smiled the younger
witch, picking up a hefty stack of Ancient Runes papers before bidding Minerva
a good night and, more cheerful at the prospect of spending time with Remus,
heading out of the door humming to herself.

Minerva watched
her go, sadly. It had been a long time since she and Timothy
had first sorted themselves out, but she could see herself in this young witch,
and her relationship with Remus brought back bittersweet memories of her own
courtship. Wearily, she put down her emerald green quill and steepled her
fingers.

Having Remus around was also a
reminder of his school friends. Oh, she’d been exasperated by their constant
pranks (and privately certain that Remus had been the mastermind behind a lot
of them), and they’d provoked her fury on more than one occasion, but she’d
been secretly proud of them in their day. Then there had been dear, sweet Lily
Evans; kind, studious, a diligent prefect –
but also prepared to turn her brilliant mind to mischief. Minerva
chuckled as she recalled disciplining her for a mysterious cloud of taunting
and spitting hummingbirds that had somehow taken up residence around the head
of a seventh-year Slytherin that had had the misfortune to call Lily
a mud-blood. She had taken her punishment with a small smile and a sparkle in
her eye that the two women had shared happily.

Sniffing, Minerva
extracted her handkerchief from the desk drawer and blew her nose.

Such good people, she thought
sadly, all destroyed by one boy’s lust for power.

She missed them all terribly.

0o0o0o0

It took approximately three
minutes for Amelia’s good mood to dissipate.
Three Ravenclaw fourth-years, caught up in the excitement of having finished
their exams, came sprinting around a corner and knocked Amelia,
along with Martin’s exam papers, flying. They
were clearly very sorry, so she let them off with a carpeting before collecting
up the papers with bad grace and stomping up the stairs.

The castle was quiet in the
post-exam hush and Amelia could hear the soft
puffs of the lanterns around her bursting to life. It was a little eerie; she
quickened her pace.

All of a sudden, she felt the
cold prickle of fear that meant Hermione was afraid shiver down her back.

Convincing herself that her
cousin had, as expected, stolen out of the castle to be with Hagrid during
Buckbeak’s execution she steeled herself before hurrying forward. This unease
plainly meant that the dreadful act had been committed; Amelia
felt the need to be near Remus, and to have him tell her that everything would
be all right. Hermione, she knew, would have Harry
and Ron by her side.

It was all that she could do not
to run.

As she hurried to the last corner
before Remus’s office she was knocked backwards in a swirl of black robes and
exam papers. Winded, Amelia looked up in time to
see a pale and breathless Severus set off at a sprint.

Finding herself unexpectedly on
her arse for the second time that evening – and more than a little alarmed at
the countenance of her friend – she shouted after him angrily. So intent was he
on his purpose that he didn’t seem to hear her.

Swearing, Amelia
picked herself up and rubbed her arse. That had hurt.

Gathering up the papers once
more, she wondered what could possess her sombre friend to move at such a high
speed.

Probably escaping from Sybill,
she mused.

Huffily, she nudged open the door
to Remus’s office.

Funny, she thought, that
lamp’s gone over.

“Remus?” she called.

She glanced at the desk. The
steaming goblet of Wolfsbane was still there, untouched.

Slowly, she put the pile of scripts
down on a chair and walked around the desk, eyes on the Potion; a dark sense of
foreboding was settling on her stomach and she was strongly reminded of that
awful night two summers back, when she’d pelted through the streets of her home
town, desperately afraid of what she might find.

Remus had knocked his inkwell
over in his haste to leave, so she righted that and the lamp, absently
replacing the spilled ink with a flick of her wand.

The Marauders' Map lay open in
front of her; tensely she watched Severus pause by the
Whomping Willow before running along the tunnel marked alongside it and
disappearing off the edge of the map.

That settled it, really. Hermione
and her friends were in trouble, and Remus and Severus had
seen them on the Map.

Hermione is in trouble.

Amelia
sped through the corridors of the castle at a pace that would have surprised
her colleagues.

Hermione is in trouble, and so
is Remus.

The warm air hit her as she
crossed the courtyard, her footsteps heavy on the wooden bridge leading into the
grounds.

Hermione is in trouble and
it’s probably Black.

Soil and twigs flew up around her
as she tore across the grounds towards the Whomping Willow, which cast an
eerily still silhouette in the moonlight.

She slowed, stopping where she
judged the range of the great tree ended, breathing heavily.

Hermione is in trouble, and
probably in the same room as a mass murderer.

Her face set and she strode
forward with determination. Whatever it was that had allowed Severus and her
cousin’s entry into the tunnel held for Amelia too, but only just – her feet
had barely touched the soft earth of the tunnel when an enormous branch smacked
into the entrance behind her head.

Amelia
ran along the tunnel, bent almost double.

Hermione is in trouble.

Behind her, she could hear the
sound of the great tree’s branches punish the earth around it until, apparently
satisfied, the noises ceased.

Remus is in trouble, probably
with Hermione.

She ran on. The tunnel seemed to
be an endless tube of rock and dust; she felt her chest tighten as her
claustrophobia kicked in. Ignoring it as best she could, she pressed on.

Hermione and Remus are in
trouble.

After what seemed like an age she
saw a pale light ahead; she drew her wand and climbed through the dusty
opening.

Amelia
barely had time to register the splintered furniture and stained floor as she
heard raised voices ring out from above her.

Hermione.

She rushed up the stairs.

Severus’s voice
could be heard clearly now.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY POTTER!”

“Expelliarmus!”

The moment before Amelia
kicked the door open a rush of magic flew across the dusty room in front of
her. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Severus
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
cold.

Wand up, Amelia moved into the
room, looking from Severus against the wall, to Remus bound and struggling at
her feet, to the children stood around the bed, and in front of her, Sirius
Black. It occurred to her that as Black appeared to be unarmed
Hermione or her friends must have disarmed Severus.

She kept her wand and eyes fixed
on Black; pale, filthy and gaunt as he was, he looked shaken.

She was aware that the children
were staring at her.

“Hermione?”

“I’m ok,” replied the younger
witch anxiously, “and so’s Harry… I think Ron’s
leg’s broken.”

Amelia
nodded.

“Untie Remus, please.”

Hermione crossed the room and
bent down to free her Professor.

“I take it you three had a good
reason for knocking Severus out?” she said evenly.

“He’d gone mad,” said Harry
quietly.

“You shouldn’t have done that,”
said Black, looking at Harry. “You should have
left him to me.”

Amelia
shuddered. Hermione had untied Remus and returned to Ron’s
side a little too quickly for Amelia’s taste. She
was muttering “We attacked a teacher, we attacked a teacher,” under her breath,
over and over.

She glanced at Remus.

“You alright?”

“Just a few bruises… Amelia,
lower your wand,” he said, carefully.

Bewildered, Amelia
risked another look at him. He had his hands up in a placating manner; the fear
in her stomach curled into a knot.

“I most certainly will not!”

“Please – just let me explain –”

“Remus, your stories are taking
too long,” growled Black.

“Shut up, Sirius!” he snapped,
urgently.

Amelia’s
eyes flicked rapidly between the two men.

“Sirius?” she asked, and took a
step backwards, staggered. “Remus –” she pleaded.

“Really Mel,
I can explain –” he said, desperation in his voice.  Black looked from Remus to Amelia,
something akin to curiosity in his dark eyes.

She shook her head in horror.

“All those times you told me you
hated him for what he’d done, and I believed you!”

“Amelia,
please –”

“I comforted you, you lying bastard!” she spat.

“Mel
–”

Her voice was far softer now; Amelia
looked him dead in the eye.

“You should know, Lupin, that if
you hurt my cousin, I will kill you.”

There was an icy silence. Black
was now staring between Amelia and his old
friend; she could hear Ron’s ragged breathing
from the bed to her right.

Remus’s shoulders had sagged and
his eyes were closed.

He looked, Hermione said later,
as if his entire world had collapsed.

He straightened up and addressed Harry
instead, voice terse.

“Thank you.”

“I want you three to go back up
to the castle,” Amelia said over her shoulder.
“Fetch anyone you can find – I’ll stay here and watch these two.”

Black took a
step towards her.

“That boy’s not taking his rat
anywhere,” he hissed threateningly.

The tip of her wand was touching
his chest now; Amelia realised with painful
clarity that if he wanted to, Black could simply reach up and
take it from her… but why wasn’t he? Remus pushed him back, placing himself
between Black and the point of her wand.

“Don’t.”

“Remus –”

“Please.”

“Twelve years!” he moaned.

“I know,” Lupin sighed and turned
to face her.

“I give you my word, Amelia,
that neither Sirius nor I will harm you or any of the children.”

She swallowed.

“I don’t know how much your
word’s worth any more.”

“I promise you, no harm will come
–” he began again, but she cut across him, angrily.

“And I suppose Ron’s
leg broke all of its own accord, did it?”

He looked at her helplessly.

“You’re evil,” she whispered.

Harry
spoke up.

“Professor
Brown? I know it sounds mad, but they think Ron’s
rat is a wizard.”

Amelia
thought about this for a moment.

“Ok, maybe not evil. Deranged.”

“It’s the truth, Mel.”

There was a pause, then –

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite see
what the hell that has to do with anything.”

Hermione stepped forward; Amelia
glanced at her in the gloom, feeling they were becoming somewhat sidetracked.

“Black says that
he didn’t kill Harry’s parents, they were
betrayed by Peter Pettigrew,
their old friend.”

Amelia
frowned. “But he’s dead,” she said slowly, as if trying to explain something
simple to Crabbe or Goyle.

“No he’s not,” said Remus. Behind
him, Black gave a menacing growl.

“He soon will be!”

“Professor
Lupin says that Pettigrew is an unregistered
Animagus – like Black,” Hermione continued timidly.

“An Animagus,” Amelia
repeated, slowly.

“He’s a dog,” said Ron,
from the bed, “… I saw him change back.”

Amelia
looked at Remus, head tilted a little to the right as if trying to understand.

“A dog,” she said, “and a rat.”

Remus nodded.

“… Padfoot… and Wormtail…”

“Yes,” he replied quietly.

Amelia
shook her head again.

“Hermione?” she asked; it was
unnecessary to finish the question.

“I… I think we should listen to
them.”

Still very unhappy, Amelia
gave a curt nod and moved between the two men and the children. She didn’t
lower her wand.

“Go on then.”