Students from all houses were recovering. The kids were celebrating. Interestingly, everyone's stashes turned up something to mark the outstanding event. If anyone could peek into all the common rooms in turn, they'd see the "party sets" didn't differ much: butterbeer and firewhisky. Just quantities varied. Gryffindor and Slytherin clearly led (the "lions" in beer, the "snakes" in whisky). The rest were much more modest. In snacks, naturally, the "badgers" beat everyone. Not surprising—kitchen right nearby.
Harry barely managed to dash to his room, grab something from under his pillow, shove it in his waistband and hole up in the bathroom. No other places to hide today. Even here...
"Harry, you coming?" Two voices in unison. The twins, definitely. Even tugged the door.
Damn, he spat mentally and groaned theatrically. Got in response:
"Ah... fine, hurry up," another voice demanded.
"Seriously?" He couldn't take it. "You guys can't sit somewhere else?"
Giggling behind the door. Finally they left.
Harry pulled the Protean notebook from his waistband—the only way to explain something to the professor. Professors, that is.
What to write? Gotta hurry, hurry... Naturally nothing came to mind. He sighed and tried putting himself in Snape's place.
Oh right, he's got a whole house partying now. And Malfoy's right there. Once he starts asking... ah, exactly—Malfoy!
His hand started writing on its own: "Malfoy believes you're his Patronus."
Harry looked at the page and smiled. It came out good. Short with all the essentials. Now he could celebrate! Not forgetting about tomorrow, of course.
***
To think—I'm a Patronus. Snape hadn't been in such confused feelings for ages. But Draco Malfoy? I'm missing something... And something whispers Potter's behind this, he thought, leaving his own house's common room after clearly explaining to his charges what awaited them if they stepped even slightly outside known boundaries.
Right then the notebook warmed in his left trouser pocket. One glance at a single phrase and everything became clear.
Of course. I'm Potter's protective beast... Hell, devil and all mythical dark forces...
At least admit to yourself it's pleasant, a voice sounded inside. His own. And appreciate what an effect it had!
To hell with that effect. And now how do I teach Potter to mask a formed Patronus when I've never tried it myself and only know the principle? he answered, wondering whether to greet his own madness or wait a bit longer.
He had to admit Potter did well. A real Slytherin. He'd fooled Malfoy brilliantly at least. And not just him. Most importantly—in time. But getting details would be useful.
The madness stayed silent. Apparently in full agreement.
Snape turned, robes billowing, and headed back to the common room. The fairly decorous though clearly high-proof aristocratic celebration continued. Nobody was particularly surprised at his return. He beckoned Malfoy. Draco's ears immediately flared. Red spots appeared on his cheeks...
In the dean's office, Malfoy perched on the chair's edge and surprised him considerably. Started uncertainly and very clumsily apologizing. Snape even had to interrupt the poor guy so he wouldn't suffer. Congratulated him on the victory, even if half. That was quite enough for the kid to be stunned.
"Tell me," the dean said calmly. Draco calmly laid everything out like in confession. The guy had wanted to share for ages! Especially with the one who personally taught him this very Patronus! Maybe that's why it became his Protector?
The professor just shrugged at that suggestion. Simultaneously searching those cheeky yet curious pale gray eyes for interesting details. He had to act carefully. Malfoy wasn't Zabini—the older generation definitely cared about him. But reading recent events straight from memory through ordinary eye contact turned out too easy. Managed completely unnoticed even by mental protections hanging on the only heir.
Well yes, Snape thought. Since Draco's openly talking about exactly this anyway. Doesn't matter what he believes right now. Main thing—he's open and doesn't think he needs to hide anything. What would he hide anyway?
Draco had heard about Severus Snape before Hogwarts. Though the dean was a half-blood, aristocrats had long appreciated what he'd done ten years ago and continued doing for their children and the whole house. Just weren't rushing to tell him.
Snape had long proven he was the same blood, even if only half. He didn't just know certain undeniably important nuances—he understood them. So could quite count as one of them. And the kids naturally knew who at Hogwarts they could trust.
So now Snape could review what happened "through his student's eyes" with some pleasure. Didn't get carried away though. Not much there anyway.
Well done, Potter... No wonder the Hat offered him Slytherin. The old bag hasn't lost it yet! That's encouraging. But the kid nearly gave us all away. What do I do with him now?
He carefully exited the student's memory, cautiously removing traces of his presence. Put on a thoughtful expression. Then awarded the pleased Malfoy a whole twenty points (mentally picturing a completely different student) and dismissed him. Let him celebrate. He earned it.
But what had Potter earned? A dressing-down? For what exactly? Whose fault was it that this kid had everything backwards? Animagus form probably the world's only one—a dragon. And now his Patronus—a person. And not just any person. Not even Merlin or James Potter! No, it's him. Snape. That's how the kid perceives him. Protector... Was he really—worthy?
Snape sighed and poured the rest of the Glenmorangie into his glass. Well, he'd earned a bit of celebration too... Plus tomorrow he had to excuse Potter from his company with some more unfair punishment (what a storm that should cause in the red-and-gold house—very convenient!), then drag himself with him to search for his flea-bitten godfather.
Then possibly tie up the thrice-cursed mutt and stash him somewhere. That last part stressed him most. The rest was manageable. But couldn't postpone it—dementors appearing over the stadium during the game clearly indicated danger. And not just for Black.
Learning to hide Patronus form himself then training Potter seemed quite routine by comparison.
The epic Patronus appearance came to mind again. No, both kids did well...
So Draco Malfoy's Patronus was a hippogriff. Either way it turned out he was a strong mage. Just excellent prospects. Speaking of which, why not delight his daddy? Of course he wouldn't mention the form yet. But would please him with information about an effective Patronus the guy conjured in quite a complex situation.
He approached the fireplace and tossed in a pinch of powder. Just a bit. Only for communication...
A few minutes later, the illustrious Lord Malfoy joined him in marking today's celebration. Decided he had no less a holiday. And thanks to his son's dean for such pleasant news.
Malfoy Senior stretched his legs toward the fireplace, sipped cognac and was in no hurry to share his thoughts. He easily understood Snape wasn't telling everything. But he wasn't rushing to pry. They were allies now anyway. So when the need came, he'd learn everything. And quite approved of the dean's reasonable caution. If anyone would keep a secret, it was him.
***
Sirius Black—or rather, a massive black Irish wolfhound—sighed heavily, trying to settle on a pile of fallen leaves he'd raked into the cave and used as bedding. At least not so cold and hard. His empty stomach's rumbling wouldn't let him sleep. Tossed almost all night. Only dozed off briefly toward morning. Now a new day—freezing, gray and bleak.
And had to do something about the empty belly. The human mind struggled through dog sensations and reflexes. He needed to hunt for food. But how? He couldn't hunt properly... Tried catching rabbits several times. But the long-ears were too quick. Gave no chance to catch them.
Creeping on frozen ground and dry crunching fallen leaves—completely pointless. Sitting or lying in ambush—too cold. Quickly started shivering and simply couldn't take it. Got up and left. But fully grasped the heaviness of "free wild life." To think—once he and James discussed how romantic and wonderful being a free forest predator was. Finally understood why Lupin looked at them like that then. They'd wanted to support him...
Old memories spontaneously surfaced in fragments. He was quite grateful—helped him keep his humanity. What stupid kids they'd been then! Yeah, and some memories better not surface. Such shame he felt after.
Then he remembered Lupin mentioning most wolves in nature ate mice. How they'd laughed then! Now it turned out to be almost salvation.
Forest mice were a bit slower than rabbits. Probably due to short legs. But he was too cautious. True, caught and ate a couple. Didn't help hunger much. Rather the opposite. When he tried entering the Forbidden Forest, had to run with tail tucked. Centaurs didn't appreciate friendly attempts from a massive toothy dog to get acquainted with their foals.
He would have to beg. Saw no other choice. Maybe try stealing something. An old not-too-clean table at the Hog's Head appeared before his eyes. Merlin, what pork they had there! The dog nearly howled. His mouth filled with saliva. Onward to Hogsmeade!
Circling all the more-or-less decent places—still closed, so had to enter from the yard—Sirius realized charm was no longer his strong suit. Started sniffing rare morning passersby. Maybe someone would agree to toss something to a dog?
He got something. A snowball. Then dodged a cane and barely suppressed an offended growl. Guessed—or rather sensed—they wouldn't understand or appreciate his protest. The world was cruel.
But then students appeared in Hogsmeade. Some got scared of him, especially girls. But not for long. Most couldn't ignore a hungry dog's eyes after all. They tossed him sandwich remains, pie pieces and even pastries. Patted his head. He searched that crowd for that one boy he wanted to serve the rest of his life... But he wasn't there. Not even anyone with a trace of his scent...
Three ginger guys who seemed familiar triggered a quiet growl deep in his throat. But the curly light-haired girl feeding him another pie flinched and asked offended what he was unhappy about. Scaring a benefactor was wrong and rude. She clearly still had something left in her bag. He shut up, watching the ginger trio warily.
Gradually fewer and fewer kids are on the streets. The dog got strange unpleasant sensations in his stomach. Apparently greasy fried dough wasn't the best food after several days of starving. He burped a couple times. Seemed to feel better... Then got sick in nearby bushes.
It felt so disgusting! His belly rumbled from hunger again. It ached too. At least the day turned out surprisingly warm—ice didn't fully catch local puddles. Easy to break with a paw. The dog could at least drink. He'd long stopped caring about sanitation.
The day was ending. Streets completely empty. Counting on handouts made no sense anymore. But rummaging behind taverns... His paws carried him to that place he'd dreamed about at the very start.
Near the Hog's Head he unexpectedly ran into some girl. She hoarsely squeaked at the sight of him and immediately sank right onto cold ground. Something jingled, exactly like broken glass. Reddish familiar-smelling liquid started flowing from under the girl's bag. He licked his lips involuntarily.
***
Harry, who'd drunk the tracking potion, knew for sure: Sirius was currently in Hogsmeade. Snape cursed through his teeth. It's impossible to catch the dog in front of everyone! Harry listened and silently approved, memorizing some turns of phrase and pretending not to hear.
"Wait, Harry. We must wait. Either he'll finally leave from there—then we can intercept him without witnesses, or..."
"Or night comes and we Apparate..."
Snape raised an eyebrow.
"I mean you Apparate us. Throw up a Silencing dome, sleeping spell on Sirius, under the arm and..."
"And where? Middle of the night? I'm definitely not dragging him to mine—too much for Slytherin. Can't take him to yours either. Too many questions."
Harry sighed. Doubt anyone would be happy getting a wolfhound dumped on them at night. Even asked very politely.
"Even if the national hero asks," Snape continued his thought, having somehow managed to get in his head again.
Harry stared reproachfully at the teacher.
"Don't gape, Potter. Practice," Snape answered in his usual grumpy "teaching" voice.
"But Professor, can't I at least relax with you sometimes?.."
Snape sighed. He understood the boy needed an outlet. But what if... The headmaster probably had his blood from when he studied here. And the rest probably too...
"Exactly with me you shouldn't."
Harry bugged out his eyes.
"Why? Then who? How?.. Ah, Polyjuice... But you've always got that stuff on your hair... Why don't I use..."
"Because as discovered in Smethwyck's lab, taking your biological material is useless—it doesn't work. Thank the basilisk. But mine exists in at least one place."
"Ah, got it. But what about aristocrats—like Malfoy? He should use something too?"
"Naturally. Uses the same composition. I improved it myself."
"Then why isn't his hair..."
Snape snorted.
"Because those who care about appearance don't skimp on a small illusion. Sometimes more than one."
"And you..." Harry hesitated. Didn't know how to continue without offending the potions master. Good relations were good relations. But shouldn't pry when not invited. He'd learned that long ago.
"Why would I?" he seemed surprised. "In my opinion, the worse the better."
"Why?"
"Because it's school!"
"Don't get it..."
"Since when are you interested in my appearance? Don't tell me you've..."
Harry shook his head violently. Snape stopped.
"What if we give him bulldog Polyjuice?" Harry preferred changing the subject.
No need to specify who—both their thoughts kept jumping to Sirius Black no matter what they discussed. Though Harry was curious what Malfoy Senior looked like without illusions. Probably like Draco's first year...
"Then he'd have to be conscious and drink it himself. Then take it daily. Can you picture that?"
"What if..." Harry hesitated. Actually no more ideas came to mind. And yeah, Sirius wasn't someone who could follow any one rule for long. Maybe he'd last a day or two then definitely forget.
"I can Apparate closer to the Shrieking Shack. But to get inside, we'd have to walk three hundred yards. Even if we put the dog to sleep then wake him, we won't stay unnoticed. Plus I expect talking will take considerable time. And your house will miss you in an hour and a half."
"Damn, damn, damn! Maybe try now? All the students seem back—time's up?"
"I wouldn't be so sure everyone's back."
"Under the Cloak?"
Snape sighed. Harry was right. He had to act. And he'd suggested a suitable solution.
"Fine," he nodded. "Let's go."
The kid didn't rummage long in his bag, extracting his artifact. Then approached and just gave it to him. Right into his hands. Snape swallowed in surprise. He'd never held magical items of this class before. But no time to ponder and absorb the moment. He quickly threw on the cloak, immediately disappearing, and lifted the edge. Harry came closer, hugged him tightly around the waist, buried his face in his shoulder and whispered:
"Let us be lucky. Please, let us be lucky..."
Still such a kid after all! Worried... And we don't need that at all, Snape sighed internally and put his hand on Harry's shoulders, pulling him closer before paired Apparition.
"Calm down, Harry. We'll do everything right. Soon as we see him—you do Silencing Dome, I do Sleeping Spell. Ready?"
A couple seconds later they were fighting stomach spasms in the backyard of the Hog's Head. Cold spread in the air around them.
They didn't even have to search. Harry, casting Silencing Dome, immediately saw his godfather sitting almost hugging some girl on withered grass already snaking with frost. No time to wonder at the strange pair. Depression, melancholy, hopelessness piled on like a heavy burden... Why were they bothering? Sirius wouldn't live anyway... Hands and seemingly soul too were freezing.
But the professor was already lifting weakly resisting Black and that girl from the ground...
No way! We're not leaving anyone to those creatures! Harry grabbed his godfather by the collar and shook. He opened his mouth in amazement. Snape immediately took advantage, pouring something in and forcing him to swallow, pressing his cheeks. Coughed and barked... already a dog. And again the Apparition vortex sucked them in.
***
Sybill Trelawney couldn't wait for Sunday evening. The sherry remains were only enough to stop her hands shaking a bit. Urgently needed to replenish stock. She tried distracting herself. But neither reading nor looking through an old album helped. So finally she gave up and headed to Hogsmeade a bit early.
After all, before dark she could sit over a glass at the Hog's Head where usually there were never students. The owner didn't like them—didn't like and didn't serve. Very convenient for his other clients. By the way, kids should've already headed back to school. She'd return only after curfew to meet nobody in the corridors.
Still, Sybill timed it right. Almost no children were left on the village streets. She really did sit over a glass. More than one. Gazing sometimes at the slowly darkening sky in the window, sometimes at the fireplace's bright flames.
What a good person this Aberforth was. Not like his brother at all! Completely indifferent to everything and everyone. Simply fulfilling visitor orders and asking nothing. And his fireplace was excellent. Big. Couldn't tear your eyes away. As long as she could remember, she'd always loved watching fire. Wonderful person!
So she decided after the third glass and finally, swaying slightly, stood. Time to go if she didn't want to reach school in the dark. For some reason choosing the back exit, she left the tavern, holding the heavy bag hanging on her shoulder that clinked quietly with each step.
Seeing the Grim at dusk, she simply quietly lost consciousness.
***
Sirius was confused. Nobody had ever been this scared of him. But the smell beckoned. He approached closer and started lapping. No, the dog himself didn't exactly enjoy it. But someone inside really wanted this. Simply demanded it. And more.
Sybill came from a wet nose poking her cheek. Then a massive tongue smelling of sherry ran over her face, removing her glasses, pushing hair off her forehead... From surprise she sat up. Before her sat... or rather, towered over her the real Grim exactly as she'd imagined it. But... hadn't he just licked her? She wasn't tasty! But she couldn't scream. Throat seized up. Ears roared. Her body seemed to completely stop obeying.
The dog was surprised when the woman pulled herself together and made a strangled squeak. He wagged his tail and looked at her endearingly (well, as he thought). She looked so frightened and miserable. He whined briefly, lay down and, tail thumping, carefully crawled a bit closer and laid his muzzle on her knees.
Sybill was taken aback but remembered Harry Potter...
Oh, what if this is that very tame Grim he mentioned? flashed through her head. She looked into the dog's eyes. First threw her into a cold, then heat. Then the world disappeared and only eyes remained... The dog's silhouette trembled and blurred. Now she saw a person in its place. Thin, uncombed, shabby and slightly drunk like herself.
The next moment the fragile woman completely changed. Sirius watched mesmerized as the patterned gray irises disappeared behind ink-black pupil spots he was drowning in, drowning and couldn't surface or even breathe—it suddenly got so terrifying.
A hoarse male voice that couldn't possibly belong to this fragile figure with a thin neck. Strange and terrible words he'd never want to hear. But he understood either with sixth human sense or simply dog instinct—this was about him.
"Guilty but not for what he was convicted. Escaped but not freed. Will perish by a relative's hand at the start of cold summer. Nobody—only one boy will remember and blame himself for his friend's death. He won't grieve long. Just a few years left to him. The boy will follow but on another road... If the guilty one perishes, the boy will also go..."
"Harry," Sirius croaked, involuntarily taking human form.
Harry. School. Of course he's at Hogwarts. Pettigrew's there too. Revenge! flashed through his head.
"Rat," he moaned-croaked, squeezing his eyes shut like from pain.
The Seer gripped his wrist with inhuman strength. Icy fingers.
Now Sirius looked into the beyond-black of her eyes and heard hot whisper:
"Don't go that road. Don't go. The boy..."
The Seer ran out of breath. Fell silent. Closed her eyes. The whole world froze. Cold and heaviness appeared in the air. She was scared.
With a loud crack someone invisible Apparated next to them. Grabbed them, pulled them somewhere up. Another crack. The stomach did a dangerous flip. But no time for that. Someone dragged her somewhere. Had to run with all her might. But when she understood who they were running from, legs flew on their own—faster, faster!
The Whomping Willow didn't have time to orient itself. From one side—cold. From another—dangerous fire balls. From a third—something completely incomprehensible...
It let that incomprehensible thing through. Then it split into four trembling silhouettes. But it was too late. One pressed the secret knot.
Some dungeons. Sybill got dragged somewhere again with this dog... oh no, not a dog at all but a person! No, completely different dog... The old sofa creaked springs protestingly when her light body was practically thrown on it.
***
Snape, barely seeing what was happening, literally forced that very "bulldog" potion into Black. Otherwise they'd hardly escape the dementor. Thanks to Harry. For the fireballs too. But he'd tell him later. Incredibly lucky there was only one dementor. However, those creatures could transmit information to each other. So the respite would be brief.
He glanced at Harry, settling Trelawney and a white bulldog together on the old sofa and stood at the door with a wand ready. Harry joined him a couple seconds later.
Silence. Spring creaking. Convulsive sigh behind.
"Where am I?.. Who are you?"
"Miss Trelawney, sit calmly please," she heard a familiar voice. Sobbed and threw herself at Snape, hugging him from behind like a life preserver.
He winced and carefully freed his wand arm.
"Miss Trelawney, can you summon a Patronus?" Harry whispered nearby.
"Don't know... No, I can't."
She sobbed but pulled out her wand.
"I'm... a weak witch."
"Oh, you probably can't see anything," Harry caught himself.
"See a little," she answered. "My eyesight's not that terrible. But it's a secret."
This admission strangely defused the situation a bit. Even Snape smiled with the corner of his mouth. Harry actually shook her hand. Silence. The air was calm and not getting cold at all. Had they forgotten about them? They waited, just a bit more... Now... But nothing happened. Hearts stopped racing like crazy. Could they breathe?
"Incredible," Snape whispered. "Though quite possible—some old charms preserved here..."
"And the Whomping Willow's still a formidable tree," Harry giggled nervously.
"Then let's talk."
Eyes turned to the white bulldog peacefully burying his nose in an old blanket.
"You took the antidote, Professor?"
"Naturally."
Harry sighed. Smart was smart, but he had ages before such foresight. Didn't even ask whether dementors would sense Sirius if he returned to his form in the shack—Snape had probably foreseen that too.
The professor sat Sybill back on the sofa and cast a sleeping spell on her.
"Silence," he asked Harry. Clarified: "On the three of us."
Harry nodded in response and started whispering the spell. Meanwhile Snape activated some strange amulet.
"That's against dementors?" Potter couldn't resist.
"Not exactly. Just interference, noise, distortions... impossible to read magical field or mage's aura through them."
The awakened bulldog tried growling at Snape. But seeing Harry, quietly whined and crawled to him. Giving the antidote took a minute. Transformation went quickly. Then...
Black turned out surprisingly sane. Even surprised himself. Told everything. True, chaotically, not quite clearly, stumbling into emotions they managed to calm only with another potion (Harry was impressed again). But detailed enough.
"Yeah... Godfather, you should really get out of England."
Black sighed and nodded. After Sybill's prophecy—hitting him like a cold shower, running straight through his brain—he felt like a different person. Or maybe felt so detached because of the potion. Either way it was useful. Right.
"We'll catch Pettigrew, no question," Snape ground his teeth slightly. "Need him caught with witnesses and giving testimony. Then we have chances to exonerate Black. But till then we hide him so not a soul... And best—really leave the country. I have an acquaintance..."
Yeah, Lucius Malfoy was heading to the continent literally the day after tomorrow. True, how to foist a Muggle mutt on an aristocrat, Severus had no idea yet.
Sirius exhaled raggedly. It had come to this. He'd owe Snape a debt. And what a debt!..
But Harry was staring right at him. For this boy's sake... he had to live for him. Had to restore his good name for him. Hell, from now on the whole meaning of his dog life—serve him, protect him, be supported. In a memory seemingly cleared of garbage, the conversation with Snape surfaced. The boy needed a reliable protector. Reliable. And what had he done?
"Black."
He raised his eyes to his former enemy.
"You need to get well. Not just get treatment but get well, understand? You have no right to let Harry down."
He nodded. Yeah. Had no right.
"Swear it. It'll be... easier for you to hold on."
"Really?"
"Test it."
"Please, Sirius..."
Well, this voice was decisive.
"I, Sirius Orion Black..."
"Now you'll drink and become a nice white bulldog this... hmm, worthy woman picked up. Wake up, Miss Trelawney! And forgive me. I'll be very careful. Obliviate..."