Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks; Harry gripped his wand convulsively — Do it now! said a voice in his head — but the footsteps were thundering up the stairs and Harry still hadn’t done it.
The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry’s feet.
“Expelliarmus!” Lupin shouted.
Harry’s wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.
Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn’t done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the dementors.
Then Lupin spoke in an odd voice, a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion.
“Where is he, Sirius?”
Harry looked quickly at Lupin. He didn’t understand what Lupin meant. Who was Lupin talking about? He turned to look at Black again.
Black’s face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn’t move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. Mystified, Harry glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered.
“But then . . . ,” Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, “. . . why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless” — Lupin’s eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see — “unless he was the one . . . unless you switched . . . without telling me?”
Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin’s face, Black nodded.
“Professor,” Harry interrupted loudly, “what’s going on — ?”
But he never finished the question, because what he saw made his voice die in his throat. Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixedly at Black. The professor walked to Black’s side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother.
Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.
“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Hermione screamed.
Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. “You — you —”
“Hermione —”
“— you and him!”
“Hermione, calm down —”
“I didn’t tell anyone!” Hermione shrieked. “I’ve been covering up for you —”
“Hermione, listen to me, please!” Lupin shouted. “I can explain —”
Harry could feel himself shaking, not with fear, but with a fresh wave of fury.
“I trusted you,” he shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering out of control, “and all the time you’ve been his friend!”
“You’re wrong,” said Lupin. “I haven’t been Sirius’s friend, but I am now — Let me explain. . . .”
“NO!” Hermione screamed. “Harry, don’t trust him, he’s been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he’s a werewolf!”
There was a ringing silence. Everyone’s eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.
“Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,” he said. “Only one out of three, I’m afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don’t want Harry dead. . . .” An odd shiver passed over his face. “But I won’t deny that I am a werewolf.”
Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped,
“Get away from me, werewolf!”
Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, “How long have you known?”
“Ages,” Hermione whispered. “Since I did Professor Snape’s essay. . . .”
“He’ll be delighted,” said Lupin coolly. “He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant. . . . Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?”
“Both,” Hermione said quietly.
Lupin forced a laugh.
“You’re the cleverest witch of your age I’ve ever met, Hermione.”
“I’m not,” Hermione whispered. “If I’d been a bit cleverer, I’d have told everyone what you are!”
“But they already know,” said Lupin. “At least, the staff do.”
“Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?” Ron gasped. “Is he mad?”
“Some of the staff thought so,” said Lupin. “He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I’m trustworthy —”
“AND HE WAS WRONG!” Harry yelled. “YOU’VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!” He was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring. Ron edged away from both of them, dragging his leg.
“I have not been helping Sirius,” said Lupin. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll explain. Look —”
He separated Harry’s, Ron’s, and Hermione’s wands and threw each back to its owner; Harry caught his, stunned.
“There,” said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt. “You’re armed, we’re not. Now will you listen?”
Harry didn’t know what to think. Was it a trick?
“If you haven’t been helping him,” he said, with a furious glance at Black, “how did you know he was here?”
“The map,” said Lupin. “The Marauder’s Map. I was in my office examining it —”
“You know how to work it?” Harry said suspiciously.
“Of course I know how to work it,” said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. “I helped write it. I’m Moony — that was my friends’ nickname for me at school.”