The hippogriff was making frantic attempts to get to Hagrid again; Harry seized his rope too, straining to hold Buckbeak back. They watched Hagrid meander tipsily up to the castle. He was gone. Buckbeak stopped fighting to get away. His head drooped sadly.
Barely two minutes later, the castle doors flew open yet again, and Snape came charging out of them, running toward the Willow.
Harry’s fists clenched as they watched Snape skid to a halt next to the tree, looking around. He grabbed the Cloak and held it up.
“Get your filthy hands off it,” Harry snarled under his breath.
“Shh!”
Snape seized the branch Lupin had used to freeze the tree, prodded the knot, and vanished from view as he put on the Cloak.
“So that’s it,” said Hermione quietly. “We’re all down there . . . and now we’ve just got to wait until we come back up again. . . .”
She took the end of Buckbeak’s rope and tied it securely around the nearest tree, then sat down on the dry ground, arms around her knees.
“Harry, there’s something I don’t understand. . . . Why didn’t the dementors get Sirius? I remember them coming, and then I think I passed out . . . there were so many of them. . . .”
Harry sat down too. He explained what he’d seen; how, as the nearest dementor had lowered its mouth to Harry’s, a large silver something had come galloping across the lake and forced the dementors to retreat.
Hermione’s mouth was slightly open by the time Harry had finished.
“But what was it?”
“There’s only one thing it could have been, to make the dementors go,” said Harry. “A real Patronus. A powerful one.”
“But who conjured it?”
Harry didn’t say anything. He was thinking back to the person he’d seen on the other bank of the lake. He knew who he thought it had been . . . but how could it have been?
“Didn’t you see what they looked like?” said Hermione eagerly. “Was it one of the teachers?”
“No,” said Harry. “He wasn’t a teacher.”
“But it must have been a really powerful wizard, to drive all those dementors away. . . . If the Patronus was shining so brightly, didn’t it light him up? Couldn’t you see — ?”
“Yeah, I saw him,” said Harry slowly. “But . . . maybe I imagined it. . . . I wasn’t thinking straight. . . . I passed out right afterward. . . .”
“Who did you think it was?”
“I think —” Harry swallowed, knowing how strange this was going to sound. “I think it was my dad.”
Harry glanced up at Hermione and saw that her mouth was fully open now. She was gazing at him with a mixture of alarm and pity.
“Harry, your dad’s — well — dead,” she said quietly.
“I know that,” said Harry quickly.
“You think you saw his ghost?”
“I don’t know . . . no . . . he looked solid. . . .”
“But then —”
“Maybe I was seeing things,” said Harry. “But . . . from what I could see . . . it looked like him. . . . I’ve got photos of him. . . .”
Hermione was still looking at him as though worried about his sanity.
“I know it sounds crazy,” said Harry flatly. He turned to look at Buckbeak, who was digging his beak into the ground, apparently searching for worms. But he wasn’t really watching Buckbeak.
He was thinking about his father and about his three oldest friends . . . Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. . . . Had all four of them been out on the grounds tonight? Wormtail had reappeared this evening when everyone had thought he was dead. . . . Was it so impossible his father had done the same? Had he been seeing things across the lake? The figure had been too far away to see distinctly . . . yet he had felt sure, for a moment, before he’d lost consciousness. . . .
The leaves overhead rustled faintly in the breeze. The moon drifted in and out of sight behind the shifting clouds. Hermione sat with her face turned toward the Willow, waiting.
And then, at last, after over an hour . . .
“Here we come!” Hermione whispered.
She and Harry got to their feet. Buckbeak raised his head. They saw Lupin, Ron, and Pettigrew clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the roots, followed by the unconscious Snape drifting weirdly upward. Next came Harry, Hermione, and Black. They all began to walk toward the castle.
Harry’s heart was starting to beat very fast. He glanced up at the sky. Any moment now, that cloud was going to move aside and show the moon. . . .
“Harry,” Hermione muttered as though she knew exactly what he was thinking, “we’ve got to stay put. We mustn’t be seen. There’s nothing we can do. . . .”
“So we’re just going to let Pettigrew escape all over again. . . .” said Harry quietly.
“How do you expect to find a rat in the dark?” snapped Hermione. “There’s nothing we can do! We came back to help Sirius. We’re not supposed to be doing anything else!”
“All right!”
The moon slid out from behind its cloud. They saw the tiny figures across the grounds stop. Then they saw movement —
“There goes Lupin,” Hermione whispered. “He’s transforming —”
“Hermione!” said Harry suddenly. “We’ve got to move!”
“We mustn’t, I keep telling you —”
“Not to interfere! Lupin’s going to run into the forest, right at us!”
Hermione gasped.
“Quick!” she moaned, dashing to untie Buckbeak. “Quick! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide? The dementors will be coming any moment —”
“Back to Hagrid’s!” Harry said. “It’s empty now — come on!”
They ran as fast as they could, Buckbeak cantering along behind them. They could hear the werewolf howling behind them. . . .
The cabin was in sight; Harry skidded to the door, wrenched it open, and Hermione and Buckbeak flashed past him; Harry threw himself in after them and bolted the door. Fang the boarhound barked loudly.
“Shh, Fang, it’s us!” said Hermione, hurrying over and scratching his ears to quieten him. “That was really close!” she said to Harry.