“Sirius, he’s gone, Pettigrew transformed!” Harry yelled.
Sirius was bleeding; there were gashes across his muzzle and back, but at Harry’s words he scrambled up again, and in an instant, the sound of his paws faded to silence as he pounded away across the grounds.
Harry and Hermione dashed over to Ron.
“What did he do to him?” Hermione whispered. Ron’s eyes were only half-closed, his mouth hung open; he was definitely alive, they could hear him breathing, but he didn’t seem to recognize them.
“I don’t know. . . .”
Harry looked desperately around. Black and Lupin both gone . . . they had no one but Snape for company, still hanging, unconscious, in midair.
“We’d better get them up to the castle and tell someone,” said Harry, pushing his hair out of his eyes, trying to think straight. “Come —”
But then, from beyond the range of their vision, they heard a yelping, a whining: a dog in pain. . . .
“Sirius,” Harry muttered, staring into the darkness.
He had a moment’s indecision, but there was nothing they could do for Ron at the moment, and by the sound of it, Black was in trouble —
Harry set off at a run, Hermione right behind him. The yelping seemed to be coming from near the lake. They pelted toward it, and Harry, running flat out, felt the cold without realizing what it must mean —
The yelping stopped abruptly. As they reached the lakeshore, they saw why — Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.
“Nooo,” he moaned. “Noooo . . . please. . . .”
And then Harry saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. He spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them. . . .
“Hermione, think of something happy!” Harry yelled, raising his wand, blinking furiously to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it —
I’m going to live with my godfather. I’m leaving the Dursleys.
He forced himself to think of Sirius, and only Sirius, and began to chant: “Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!”
Black gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.
He’ll be all right. I’m going to go and live with him.
“Expecto Patronum! Hermione, help me! Expecto Patronum!”
“Expecto —” Hermione whispered, “Expecto — Expecto —”
But she couldn’t do it. The dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Harry and Hermione, and were getting closer. . . .
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harry yelled, trying to blot the screaming from his ears. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!”
A thin wisp of silver escaped his wand and hovered like mist before him. At the same moment, Harry felt Hermione collapse next to him. He was alone . . . completely alone. . . .
“Expecto — Expecto Patronum —”
Harry felt his knees hit the cold grass. Fog was clouding his eyes. With a huge effort, he fought to remember — Sirius was innocent — innocent — We’ll be okay — I’m going to live with him —
“Expecto Patronum!” he gasped.
By the feeble light of his formless Patronus, he saw a dementor halt, very close to him. It couldn’t walk through the cloud of silver mist Harry had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside.
“No — no —” Harry gasped. “He’s innocent . . . Expecto — Expecto Patronum —”
He could feel them watching him, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around him. The nearest dementor seemed to be considering him. Then it raised both its rotting hands — and lowered its hood.
Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, gray scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth . . . a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle.
A paralyzing terror filled Harry so that he couldn’t move or speak. His Patronus flickered and died.
White fog was blinding him. He had to fight . . . Expecto Patronum . . . he couldn’t see . . . and in the distance, he heard the familiar screaming . . . Expecto Patronum . . . he groped in the mist for Sirius, and found his arm . . . they weren’t going to take him. . . .
But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around Harry’s neck. They were forcing his face upward. . . . He could feel its breath. . . . It was going to get rid of him first. . . . He could feel its putrid breath. . . . His mother was screaming in his ears. . . . She was going to be the last thing he ever heard —
And then, through the fog that was drowning him, he thought he saw a silvery light growing brighter and brighter. . . . He felt himself fall forward onto the grass —
Facedown, too weak to move, sick and shaking, Harry opened his eyes. The dementor must have released him. The blinding light was illuminating the grass around him. . . . The screaming had stopped, the cold was ebbing away. . . .
Something was driving the dementors back. . . . It was circling around him and Sirius and Hermione. . . . The rattling, sucking sounds of the dementors were fading. They were leaving. . . . The air was warm again. . . .
With every ounce of strength he could muster, Harry raised his head a few inches and saw an animal amid the light, galloping away across the lake. . . . Eyes blurred with sweat, Harry tried to make out what it was. . . . It was as bright as a unicorn. . . . Fighting to stay conscious, Harry watched it canter to a halt as it reached the opposite shore. For a moment, Harry saw, by its brightness, somebody welcoming it back . . . raising his hand to pat it . . . someone who looked strangely familiar . . . but it couldn’t be . . .
Harry didn’t understand. He couldn’t think anymore. He felt the last of his strength leave him, and his head hit the ground as he fainted.