Remus Lupin lived alone in the office of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.
Technically, the Ministry of Magic had no intention of pursuing him; after all, he was a member of the Fire Serpent Party. Still, Professor McGonagall felt obliged to explain the situation to the students' parents. After consulting with Lupin, she asked him to remain in the office for another two days.
Lupin readily agreed. Draco Malfoy had not been seriously injured, but the young Slytherin had been terrified, and Lupin felt deeply apologetic. He could have left, but he refused to let McGonagall bear the consequences of the trouble he had caused. In this case, one party was willing to give, and the other willing to accept.
However, someone else remained unaware of this arrangement.
Sirius Black, now in the form of the white dog S.B., quietly slipped out of the Gryffindor Common Room under the cover of night. As one of the creators of the Marauder's Map, he knew Hogwarts' secret passages intimately. His good friend Lupin had accidentally harmed young Malfoy and was now "imprisoned," which stirred him into action. Sirius planned to sneak into the Dark Arts office and free him.
Even though Lupin misunderstood that he had injured James and Lily, Sirius could not stand by idle.
Moving stealthily through hidden corridors, Sirius soon arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts office on the second floor. Standing on his hind legs, the large white dog checked the door—it was unlocked. Even more surprising, Lupin was not restrained; he was sitting comfortably behind his desk, reading, delighted to learn that Minister Dentis had successfully pushed for the nationalization of industries.
Sirius pushed open the door with a bang, and both he and Lupin froze.
"Uh… you're Harry's dog, right? S.B., isn't it?" Lupin said cautiously.
A flash of insight hit him—S.B.? Could it really be Sirius Black? The same breed, just a different fur color. Lupin scolded himself internally and, in a surge of panic, drew his wand and cast a red light toward the dog.
Having regained his optimal physical condition, Sirius dodged effortlessly, leaping into the air and transforming back into his human form mid-leap, though his body remained covered in white fur.
"It really is you, Sirius Black!" Lupin exclaimed. Even the usually gentle Lupin could not maintain composure when facing the man who had caused the deaths of his closest friends.
Just then, the door opened again, admitting a large bat—Severus Snape. He raised his wand and cast a whip-like spell at Sirius, who struggled to counter.
"Listen to me! I didn't betray Lily—it was Peter Pettigrew! I didn't blow up that street either; Peter Pettigrew did!" Sirius yelled.
Snape sneered. "Lupin may be innocent in biting Draco Malfoy, but you, villain, dare to argue?"
Sirius drew his wand, but his skill had long fallen behind Snape's, and after just two exchanges, he was already struggling. Lupin struck with a "Petrificus Totalus," freezing Sirius.
Snape laughed triumphantly. "Aha! Black, escaped from Azkaban, but the Dementor's Kiss awaits you!"
At that moment, Lily's ghost appeared. Floating through the wall, she looked at Lupin.
"Hi, Remus."
Lupin nodded, listening as Lily explained, "You've wronged Sirius. He didn't betray us. Initially, we asked him to be Secret-Keeper, but he convinced us to let someone unsuspected hold the secret. Peter Pettigrew was the real traitor."
Snape opened his mouth but couldn't find words. Lupin, ashamed, realized he had wronged his friend.
Finally, Snape managed, "Regardless, he must face Ministry investigation. Even if wronged, his escape from Azkaban was illegal."
Lupin released Sirius from his control. Sirius, still recovering from his injuries, explained, "I saw Peter Pettigrew in the Daily Prophet using Animagus to hide in the Weasley family. I couldn't let him go unpunished."
Snape twitched. The rat in the Weasley family—its front paw had indeed been suspicious.
"So why come to Hogwarts now?" Snape demanded.
"I've already dealt with Peter Pettigrew. I just want to stay near Harry," Sirius said. "Tonight, I was trying to rescue Lupin."
Lupin smiled apologetically and turned to Snape. "Severus, since Lily testified, Sirius is innocent. You can pretend you didn't see him—fair?"
Snape glanced at Lily, then Sirius, and, understanding her testimony, nodded slightly. His willingness to let Sirius go without punishment was extraordinary, given their history.
"Alright, I'll face the Ministry," Sirius sighed. "Because I have no evidence about Pettigrew, this may be the last time we meet."
"No, Sirius," Lupin reassured him. "With Lily testifying, Minister Dentis will ensure justice."
When Snape heard "Minister Dentis," a new emotion crossed his face. He snorted coldly.
"Remus, call Professor McGonagall. I'll watch Black here."
Lupin shook his head bitterly and walked out.
Story Beyond the Story
The author, Daimao, took his family to a local scenic spot on Sunday. The beautiful lake and ancient charm were captivating. But as they prepared to leave, Daimao felt sudden chest pain, radiating inside, impossible to rub or press. He initially dismissed it as fatigue.
Soon, while driving, the pain intensified sharply, cold sweat pouring down. After twenty minutes of torment, he pulled over and vomited, emptying his stomach. His partner took the wheel as Daimao's limbs began tingling, pain spreading from chest to back and upper body.
"Hospital," he managed to say. His voice barely audible.
Arriving at the hospital, he stumbled toward the emergency entrance. Every step felt like a marathon. Sweating and shaky, he fumbled for his medical card.
The nurse's experienced eyes immediately assessed him.
"Suspected myocardial infarction! Wheelchair, quickly!"
Daimao was lifted into a wheelchair, unable to place his legs on the footrest himself. He felt the world tilting as he was wheeled toward an emergency bed. Minutes later, monitors blared: heart rate 32, blood pressure 80. Morphine was administered.
Forty minutes had passed since the onset. Daimao realized he had been given a second chance at life. Surgery, hospitalization, and recuperation followed.
A few days later, he regained enough strength to resume writing. The story had paused, and his experiences during these critical days altered his perspective. Perhaps the characters' fates would also shift. Typing a few words, however, made his heart race, reminding him of his fragility. Yet, determination drove him forward.
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