ing as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop 
them going nearer. 

And there, 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!" Harry shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped 
lethally through the air and he was forced backward again. 

All they 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 a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ron's leg had 
broken, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight. 

"Harry -- 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 --" 

"Harry -- we're never going to get through without help --" 

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

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

"Oh, help, help," Hermione whispered frantically, dancing U._ certainly 
on the spot, "Please..." 

Crookshanks darted forward. He slithered between the battering branches 
like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk. 

Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped 
moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook. 

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"Crookshanks!" Hermione whispered uncertainly. She now grasped Harry's 
arm painfully hard. "How did he know --?" 

"He's friends with that dog," said Harry grimly. "I've seen them 
together. Come on -- and keep your wand out --" 

They covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before they had 
reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick 
of his bottlebrush tail. Harry went next; he crawled forward, headfirst, 
and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. 
Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from 
Harry's wand. Seconds later, Hermione slithered down beside him. 

"Where's Ron?" she whispered in a terrified voice. 

"This way," said Harry, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks. 

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asked breathlessly from 
behind him. 

"I don't know... It's marked on the Marauder's Map but Fred and George 
said no one's ever gotten into it.... It goes off the edge of the map, 
but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade..." 

They moved as fast as they could, bent almost double; ahead of them, 
Crookshanks's tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the 
passage; it felt at least as long as the one to Honeydukes.... All Harry 
could think of was Ron and what the enormous dog might be doing to 
him.... He was drawing breath in sharp, painful gasps, running at a 
crouch.... 

And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and 
Crookshanks had gone. instead, Harry could see a patch of dim light 
through a small opening. 

He and Hermione paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. Both raised 
their wands to see what lay beyond. 

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 

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was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all 
boarded up. 

Harry glanced at Hermione, who looked very frightened but nodded. 

Harry pulled himself out of the hole, staring around. The room was 
deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy 
hallway. Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm again. Her wide eyes were 
traveling around the boarded windows. 

"Harry," she whispered, "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack." 

Harry looked around. His eyes fell on a wooden chair near them. Large 
chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off 
entirely. 

"Ghosts didn't do that," he said slowly. 

At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had Moved 
upstairs. Both of them looked up at the ceiling. Hermione's grip on 
Harry's arm was so tight he was losing feeling in-his fingers. He raised 
his eyebrows at her; she nodded again and let go. 

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

They reached the dark landing. 

"Nox," they whispered together, and the lights at the end of their wands 
went out. Only one door was open. As they crept toward it, they heard 
movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. They 
exchanged a last look, a last nod. 

Wand held tightly before him, Harry kicked the door wide open. 

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

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Harry and Hermione dashed across to him. 

"Ron -- are you okay?" 

"Where's the dog?" 

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

"What --" 

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

Ron was staring over Harry's shoulder. Harry wheeled around. With a 
snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them. 

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. It was Sirius 
Black. 

"Expelliarmus!"he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at them. 

Harry's and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, 
and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed 
on Harry. 

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. 

His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using 
it. "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 much 
easier...." 

The taunt about his father rang in Harry's ears as though Black had 
bellowed it. A boiling hate erupted in Harry's chest, leaving no place 
for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his 
hand, not to defend himself, but to attack... to kill. Without knowing 

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what he was doing, he started forward, but there was a sudden movement 
on either side of him and two pairs of hands grabbed him and held him 
back.... "No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, 
however, spoke to Black. 

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

Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes. 

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

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to 
Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all three of us!" 

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Brack, and his grin 
widened. 

"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron, and 
Hermione. "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 whimpered. "Be quiet!" 

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and with a huge effort he 
broke free of Hermione's and Ron's restraint and lunged forward 


He had forgotten about magic -- he had forgotten that he was short and 
skinny and thirteen, whereas Black was a tall, full-grown man -- all 
Harry knew was that he wanted to hurt Black as badly as he could and 
that he didn't care how much he got hurt in return -


Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black 
didn't raise the wands in time -- one of Harry's hands fastened over his 
wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other 
hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backward, 
into the wall 


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Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; there was a blinding flash as 
the wands in Black's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed 
Harry's face by inches; Harry felt the shrunken arm under his fingers 
twisting madly, but he clung on, his other hand punching every part of 
Black it could find. 

But Black's free hand had found Harry's throat 

"No," he hissed, "I've waited too long --" 

The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew. 

Then he saw Hermione's foot swing out of nowhere. Black let go of Harry 
with a grunt of pain; Ron had thrown himself on Black's wand hand and 
Harry heard a faint clatter -


He fought free of the tangle of bodies and saw his own wand rolling 
across the floor; he threw himself toward it but 

"Argh!" 

Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk 
themselves deep into Harry's arm; Harry threw him off, but Crookshanks 
now darted toward Harry's wand -


"NO YOU DON'T!" roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that 
made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned 
-

"Get out of the way!" he shouted at Ron and Hermione. 

They didn't need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip 
bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up her and Ron's wands. Ron crawled 
to the four-poster and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now 
ting