“You wrote — ?”
“The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn’t I?”
He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.
“You might have been wearing your father’s old Cloak, Harry —”
“How d’you know about the Cloak?”
“The number of times I saw James disappearing under it . . . ,” said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again. “The point is, even if you’re wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder’s Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid’s hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else.”
“What?” said Harry. “No, we weren’t!”
“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Harry’s interruption. “I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?”
“No one was with us!” said Harry.
“And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black. . . . I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —”
“One of us!” Ron said angrily.
“No, Ron,” said Lupin. “Two of you.”
He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.
“Do you think I could have a look at the rat?” he said evenly.
“What?” said Ron. “What’s Scabbers got to do with it?”
“Everything,” said Lupin. “Could I see him, please?”
Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black’s leg and made a soft hissing noise.
Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.
“What?” Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. “What’s my rat got to do with anything?”
“That’s not a rat,” croaked Sirius Black suddenly.
“What d’you mean — of course he’s a rat —”
“No, he’s not,” said Lupin quietly. “He’s a wizard.”
“An Animagus,” said Black, “by the name of Peter Pettigrew.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MOONY, WORMTAIL, PADFOOT, 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, and 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 force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him and 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 . . .”