The only coherent thought I can form is no. The four of us stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cloak. As the Sun is nearly gone, behind us, we hear a wild howling.

"Hagrid," Potter mutters. Seemingly without thinking about what he was doing, he made to turn back, but Ron, Hermione, and I seized his arms.

"We can't," says Ron, who was paper-white. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him. . . ."

"We'll go see him tomorrow," I promised him. "We can help him then, but for now we have to get back inside."

Adam whines and Hermione's breathing was shallow and uneven.

"How-could-they?" she choked. "How could they?"

"Come on," said Ron, his teeth chattering.

I was cold. It was the beginning of summer but I felt cold. How could Lucius Malfoy win? Why couldn't we save Buckbeak?

We set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep ourselves hidden under the Cloak. Adam follows behind like a puppy. The light was fading fast now. By the time we reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around us.

"Scabbers, keep still," Ron hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still-OUCH! He bit me!"

"Shut up, Ron!" I hissed urgently. If we get busted because of that rat I'm feeding Scabbers to Crookshanks for real. "Fudge'll be walking out here in a minute-"

"He won't-stay-put-"

Scabbers was clearly terrified, but what's he scared of? He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ron's grip.

"What's the matter with him?"

As the hairs on my neck raised, I looked back to see Crookshanks slinking toward us, his body low to the ground, wide yellow-eyes glinting like the lamps in the darkness. He must hear Scabbers; cats can't see the invisible.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione moans. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"

But the cat was getting nearer-

I whistle. "Guard, Boy." I tell Adam. Adam moves to protect Scabbers from the cat.

"Scabbers-NO!"

Too late-the rat had slipped between Ron's clutching fingers, hit the ground, and scampered away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him, and effectively avoided Adam's paw swipe. Before Potter, Hermione, or I could stop him, Ron had thrown the Invisibility Cloak off himself and pelted away into the darkness.

"Ron!" Hermione moaned.

Hermione, Potter, and I looked at each other before following at a sprint; it's impossible to run full out under the Cloak; we pulled it off and it streamed like a banner as we hurtled after Ron; you could hear his feet thundering ahead of us. Adam hung at my heels as we ran.

"Get away from him-get away-Scabbers, come here-"

There was a loud thud.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat-"

Potter, Hermione, and I nearly tripped over Ron; we skidded to a stop right in front of him. He was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in his pocket; he had both hands over the quivering lump.

"Great-you-got him-get under the Cloak-" I said between breaths. "Ministry and Dumbledore-they're coming-"

But before we could cover ourselves again, before we could even properly catch our breath, we heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws. It can't be Adam since he's right next to me. Then, suddenly, the creature is close enough to see. It was an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.

"Padfoot?" I questioned. The dog looked remarkably like the stray I'd found over the summer with Potter.

Speaking of, Potter reached for his wand, but too late-the Padfoot look alike dog had made an enormous leap and the front paws hit Potter on the chest; Potter keeled over backward. I watched, frozen.

The force of the dog's leap had sent it too far; it rolled off Potter. Looking dazed, Potter stands up ready for the dog's next attack. That shook me out of my stupor.

I look down at Adam as Ron gets to his feet. The dog sprang back toward us and latched it's jaws around Ron's arm. I winced. Ouch! Potter lunges forward and seizes a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as if he were a chew toy.

Then, I felt something slap me hard enough to throw me back. Hermione shrieks in pain and falls. I hear another thud, which I assume is Potter.

I finally pull my wand out of my boot and whisper, "Lumos!"

Blood running down my cheek, the wandlight illuminated the trunk of the Whomping Willow. We had chased Scabbers into the shadow of the tree and its branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop us from going nearer.

At the base of the trunk was the dog, dragging Ron backward into a large gap in the roots-Ron, was fighting furiously, but his head and torso were slipping out of sight-

"Ron!" Potter shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped through the air and he was forced backward again.

All we could see now was one of Ron's legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground-but we heard a crack; Ron's leg had broken, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight.

"Harry-Clara-we've got to go for help-" Hermione gasped; she was bleeding too; the Willow had cut her across the shoulder.

"No! that thing's big enough to eat him; we haven't got time-" Potter argues.

"We're never going to get through without help-"

Another branch whipped down at us, twigs clenched like knuckles.

"If that dog can get in, we can," Potter panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but he couldn't get an inch closer to the tree roots without being in range of the tree's blows.

"Oh help, help," Hermione whispers frantically, dancing uncertainly on the spot, "Please. . ."

I have to do it, don't I? Curse you, fate or karma, or God, or whatever's up there! I sigh annoyed and kneel next to Adam again.

"I need you to do something, Adam," I whisper, just barely audible. Adam watches me like, "What do you you want me to do now?"

"There's a knot on the trunk of the tree. If you press it, it opens the passage. Please go do it. You're less likely to be hurt by the tree."

Adam looks at the tree reproachfully before running to press the knot. As though the tree was turned to stone, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.

"How did that wolf know-" Hermione whispers uncertainly.

"I told him." I say to her. "Good job, Boy! Good job! Good boy!"

Adam walks into the tunnel, without fear. You'd swear he was Gryffindor. Crookshanks followed after him. Potter turns to me, "How-"

"Mom knew and she told me. What? You think I'd tell you all my secrets?" I smirk. "We better go. It won't stay open long."

I walk down into the tunnel with Potter and Hermione following after me.

Once we were at the bottom of the earthy slope into the tree, I saw Adam waiting for me and Crookshanks leading the way.

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asks.

"The Shrieking Shack," I sigh.

Adam growls at me.

"Shut up, you." I snap at him.

"Why wouldn't you tell us about this?" Potter argues with me.

"Not this shit again!" I groan. "I wanted to keep it secret. Leave me alone!"

We moved as fast as we could, bend almost double; ahead of us, Crookshank's tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage. . . .all I can think about is the big black dog. It looked like Padfoot. It looks like. . .Dad's Animagus. I sort of wish it's him. Behind me, Potter was breathing in sharp, painful gasps, as we all crouched and ran at the same time.

The tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Instead, I could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.

I, Hermione, and Potter paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. All three of us raised our wands to see what lay beyond. I felt Adam's side rub against my leg.

It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody smashed it.

It was hard to picture Mom, Dad, Uncle Remus. . .Uncle James. . .all in here.

I glanced back at Hermione, who looked very frightened but she and Potter nodded at me.

I pulled myself out of the hole, staring around. Words can never justify what the place really looks like. The room was deserted, but a door to the right stands open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Hermione's wide eyes traveled around looking at the boarded windows. I looked at a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off completely.

"Ghosts didn't do that," Potter says, slowly.

At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something or someone had moved upstairs. All three of us look up at the ceiling. Hermione and Potter nod at me again.

Quietly as we could, we crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.

We reached a dark landing.

"Nox," the three of us whispered together, and the lights at the end of our wands went out. Only one door was open. Adam was sitting next to it. He gave us a look like, "What took you three so long?" As we crept toward the door, I could hear movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, relaxed purring. Hermione, Potter, and I exchanged a final look, a last nod.

Wand held tightly in hand, I kicked the door wide open. Adam followed along to behind me.

On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring contentedly at the sight of us. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at an odd angle, was Ron.

Potter and Hermione dashed to his side. I leaned back against the door frame. Adam came to rest by my feet.

"Ron-are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," Ron moans. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, it's a trap-"

That scared me. I moved away from the door.

"What-"

"He's the dog. . .he's an Animagus. . . ."

Ron was staring over Potter's shoulder. Potter, Hermione, and I wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind us.

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. Despite the ghastly appearance, I recognized him to be my father, Sirius Black.

I hadn't just brought home a stray that looked like Padfoot. I'd actually brought my dad home and didn't know it.

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at us. Potter's, Hermione's, and I's wands shot out of our hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His sunken eyes strayed between Potter and I.

"Dad?" I asked. His eyes turned to me.

"It's good to see you, Sweetheart," Dad says, sounding hoarse. His voice also softened. "It's been so long since I've seen you. The last time I saw you you were still a little baby. Not even any bigger than my forearm. I trust you got my letter?"

Throat too tight to speak up, I nodded.

Dad turned back to Potter and said, "I thought you'd come and help your friend. Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful. . .it will make everything easier. . . ."

Potter got angry. He started forward, as if he were about to attack Dad, but Hermione and Ron grabbed him and held him back. . . .

"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a terrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to Dad.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing was draining him of more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.

Something flickered behind my dad's haunted eyes.

"Lay down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."

That doesn't sound like something a notorious mass murderer would say. Maybe by some awesome bit of good luck Mom and I were right. . .please.

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was obviously using Potter as a crutch. "You'll have to kill all three of us!"

Three. Of course, he'd say that. I was excluded as soon as I called Sirius 'Dad' and admitted to receiving a letter from him. Fine then. I shift so I'm standing against them next to Dad. I don't want you guys anyway.

Dad's grin widens like the madman he is. "There will only be one murder here tonight."

Adam gives me an annoyed look that reads, "What now, Genius? You dragged me into this. Get me out." Some times I really hate him. Usually, when he's right.

Potter spats angrily, "Why's that? Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew. . . .What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione pleads with him. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Potter roars at the top of his lungs, and with a huge effort he broke free of his restraints.

As Potter lunged toward Dad, I, without thinking, ordered Adam to "Stop him!"

Adam listened without question and knocked Potter to the floor.

"Hold him!"

Adam placed his paws on Potter's shoulders and sat down.

"Good boy!"

"Traitor!" Ron yelled. "Damn traitor!"

Dad started walking toward him only to be attacked by Hermione. Potter was struggling and Ron lunged at me. Ron tries to punch me, but his bad leg makes him easy to dodge. Potter finally managed to free himself from Adam and he lunged for Dad, punching every part of him he could reach. Dad lost hold of the wands. I was knocked the ground by Ron during my distraction.

I heard the clatter of the wands rolling. Potter, too, was trying to get his own wand.

"Get my wand, Buddy!" I shouted to Adam and he took off.

"Argh!" Potter cries out.

Crookshanks had joined the chaos; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves into Potter's arm; Potter threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted toward Potter's wand.

Adam brought mine back to me. I grabbed it, said, "Sorry, Ron," and kicked Ron right in the broken leg. Ron crumples in excruciating pain. As he whimpers, Potter gets his wand away from Crookshanks.

"Get out of the way!" Potter shouts.

Hermione moves out of the line of fire, dragging Ron, but I stay put, brandishing my wand. Adam growls and bares his teeth. The way I was positioned I was between Potter and my dad. If he wants to kill him he has to kill me.

He points his wand at my heart. I pointed mine between his eyebrows.

"You're not going to kill me," I say, absolutely convinced he wouldn't. Saint Potter can't harm anybody. He's the Golden Boy.

"Get out of the way, Clara," Potter tries to order. He should know that I don't listen.

"No," Adam's still growling. "Listen to my dad."

He shifts his eyes to my dad. "You killed my parents." Pitter's voice was shaking slightly. However, he doesn't move his wand off of me.

"I don't deny it," Dad said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story-"

"The whole story?" Potter repeated, a furious look on his face. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"Listen to him, Idiot!" I tell Potter, regaining his attention. "Hear the story before you murder him and your cousin."

"If you'd move you'd be fine."

"If I move you'll kill my dad, and I'm not okay with that."

We stay in silence for a long second. Finally, I say, "If you kill us, you'll regret it. Mom would hate you. And you'd be stuck with the guilt."

The two of us didn't say anything for a long time. Something ginger streaks past Potter and I; Crookshanks leapt onto Dad's heart. Hermione is dry sobbing.

Potter raised the wand. I take a deep breath. He won't do it. He won't do it. The seconds lengthened. Dad spoke, "Clara, get out of his way."

"I don't want to."

"Move, Clara."

"No."

Potter still stood there, frozen, wand poised. Maybe he will do it.

"Harry, please, just let him talk," I say, when he still doesn't do anything. "Let him tell his story."

He still doesn't move. Ron's ragged breathing came from the bed; Hermione stays silent.

And then comes a new sound-

Muffled footsteps are echoing up through the floor-someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE-SIRIUS BLACK-QUICK!"

Dad tries to push me out of the way, nearly succeeding; Harry grips his wand convulsively. The footsteps are thundering up the stairs and Harry still hasn't killed Dad and I.

The door of the room bursts open in a shower or red sparks and Harry wheels around as Uncle Remus 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 Dad and I, to me, laying in front of Harry's wand, and finally to Dad himself, crumpled and bleeding behind me.

"Expelliarmus!" Uncle Remus shouted.

My wand once again flew from my hand; so did Harry's and the two in Hermione's. Uncle Remus caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Dad, still with Crookshanks on his chest and me staying in front of him.

My heart thudded. Uncle Remus will make me move. He'll drag me aside and throw Dad back to the dementors. Then Uncle Remus spoke in an odd voice, a voice that suppresses some emotion.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

Who? He's looked at all of us, so he should know where everybody is.

Dad'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. Why, Ron? Why are Uncle Remus and Dad looking for Ron?

"But then. . .," Uncle Remus muttered, staring at Dad intently it seems like he's trying to read his mind, ". . . why hasn't he  shown himself before now? Unless-" Uncle Remus's eyes suddenly widen, as though he was seeing something beyond Dad-"unless he was the one. . .unless you switched. . .without telling me?"

He doesn't mean the fact that Dad was the Potter's Secret-Keeper, does he? The evidence Mom's been looking for. . .it isn't proof that he wasn't the Secret-Keeper, is it?

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Uncle Remus's face, Dad nodded.

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on-?"

But he vet finished the question, because Uncle Remus lowered his wand, and gazed fixingly at Dad. He walked to Dad's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Dad like a brother. Pleased, I sat up and leaned against Adam's neck.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

Uncle Remus let go of Dad and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Uncle Remus, wild-eyed. "You-you-"

"Hermione-"

"-you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down-"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I listened to Clara, who's in on it too with her werewolf pet! I've been covering for you-"

"I trusted you," Harry shouted, voice wavering, "and all this time you've been his friend. And Clara-"

"Save it. You've already said it all anyway."

"You're wrong," said Uncle Remus. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now-Let me explain. . . ."

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't listen to him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too-he's a werewolf."

There was a ringing silence. All of us watched Uncle Remus, who was remarkably calmer than Adam, who was visibly angry, but Uncle Remus was pale.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," Uncle Remus 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 passes over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made an impressive effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper. Uncle Remus made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped,

"Get away from me, werewolf!"

Adam growls instantly. He would've attacked Ron, if I hadn't shouted at him to "Heel" and grabbed him around his neck. Even still he looks at Ron murderously.

"No," I tell him again. "Don't do it. His mother will murder you."

Then I turn to Ron. "Not. Cool. Idjiot."

"How did you do that? How did you control it?"

"He likes me so he listens to me. However, he isn't very fond of you."

Uncle Remus watched the exchange with a resigned expression. With obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and asked, "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay. Clara made sure I wouldn't tell."

Hermione shifted to look at me. I smile with false cheer.

"He'll be delighted," says Uncle Remus coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant....Did you check the lunar chart and realize I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize my biggest changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," said Hermione quietly.

Uncle Remus forced a laugh.

"You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not," she whispers. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have ignored Clara and to everybody what you are!"

Forget Adam; I'm going to attack somebody.

"But they already know," Uncle Remus argued. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you're a werewolf?" Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said Uncle Remus. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy-"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Hardy yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL ALONG!" He was pointing at Dad, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden by one shaking arm. Ron edged away from him, dragging his leg.

"I have not been helping Sirius," Uncle Remus is starting to lose his patience. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look-"

He separates Harry's, Hermione's, and Ron's wands and threw each back to it's owner.

"What about mine?" I asked angrily. Doesn't he trust me?

"I'm assuming you're Sirius's side-"

"Of course I am!"

"Then it's best for our explanation that we're not armed while we explain." Uncle Remus turns back to the Golden Trio. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

"If you haven't been helping him," Harry asks suspiciously, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map. The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it-"

"You know how to work it?"

"Of course I know how to work it," says Uncle Remus, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony-that was my friend's nickname for me at school."

"You wrote-?"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, Hermione, and Clara 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 the Trio. Little patches of dust rose at his feet as he walked.

"You might have been wearing your father's old Cloak, Harry-"

"How's you know about the Cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappear under it...," says Uncle Remus, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're under 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?" says Harry. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," says Uncle Remus, still pacing, and ignoring Harry. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

Who is he talking about? Nobody joined us except for Adam...and Scabbers.

"Scabbers?" I say. "You aren't suggesting....That's impossible, Uncle Remus. He's dead. He's been dead for twelve years."

Uncle Remus ignores me, and plows on, "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 shouts angrily.

"No, Ron," says Uncle Remus. "Two of you."

He had stopped his pacing at last, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the ear?" He said evenly.

Oh, God. I was right...he's alive. This changes things. We have proof Dad's innocent. I felt a stupid urge to jump up and squeal while running around the room.

"What?" Ron asks, baffled. "What does Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," says Uncle Remus. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long, gross, bald tail to stop him from escaping. Ugh! I hate rats. Crookshanks made a hissing noise. I was half tempted to join him. Blerg!

Uncle Remus moved closer to Ron. He looked like he was 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," Dad croaks suddenly.

"What do you mean-of course he's a rat-"

"No, he's not," says Uncle Remus quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," says Dad.

"Peter Pettigrew, to be specific," I breathed.

So I'm back! It's been a while....

So I've returned from my unofficial hiatus to continue telling Clara's story. Let me know what it is you thought about this chapter.