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They split up at the statue of the wizard Falco Aesalon. Snape continued tracking the bloodstains on the floor, pursuing his target, while Lupin struggled to move his injured leg, his pace slow, leaving him far behind.
Lupin watched the back of Snape's quickly retreating robes and felt that the moonlight tonight was exceptionally cold. The shadows along the corridor constantly flickered, creating an unsettling atmosphere.
The post-curfew silence was rapidly vanishing. The corridors were becoming noisy because all the school's ghosts and wizard portraits were hurrying toward the commotion. They crowded their frames, chattering excitedly, and the ethereal spirits zipped through the walls, making the chase feel even more urgent.
As a Marauder, Lupin knew the castle's secret passages: behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, behind the tapestry next to the Charms classroom, behind the full-length mirror on the fourth floor, and beneath the trapdoor in the abandoned classroom on the third floor...
But all those spots were downstairs.
Lupin knew that Sirius Black's escape routes were slowly being blocked. He desperately wanted to find a way out, but there were no openings. He truly wished for a quiet place to sit down and talk things over with Sirius, but reality wouldn't grant them that chance.
Nearly Headless Nick was droning on about Sirius's school days, always naughtily breaking rules. Headmaster Black's portrait also appeared in a frame, loudly scolding Sirius for betraying his friends and saying he was no match for Regulus.
Lupin hurried down the corridor, hearing Headmaster Black's enraged shouts. For a pure-blood descendant, becoming a Death Eater who championed pure-bloods wasn't a disgrace, but betraying a friend meant being disowned by the family.
He didn't follow the direction of the dripping blood but continued along the corridor until he reached the staircase.
One passage was being held by Professors Flitwick and Sprout. The status of the other passage was unclear. If Hagrid and Melvin were delayed for some reason or had temporarily left, Sirius might still have a chance.
Lupin crossed through the semi-open archway and stood in front of the staircase. When he saw the massive figure blocking the passage, his breath hitched slightly—Hagrid was standing guard there.
"Remus, you're here?"
Hagrid's deep voice echoed in the night. "Nearly Headless Nick told me about your duel. That final Banishing Charm that sealed the victory was clean and brilliant. Don't worry, Black won't get away. Fang and Mrs. Norris are already on the chase."
"Huff... puff..."
The black dog was fast, but his panting for air and heat was a bit frantic.
Compounding this was the continuous throbbing pain in his front leg. Warm blood was steadily leaking from the wound. He felt his vision blurring, his canine mind dulling, and his strength rapidly draining.
Sirius wasn't thinking about the staircase. He darted through the corridor passages.
Further ahead was the Headmaster's Office, its two oak doors tightly locked, and the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance looked rather menacing. After a brief moment of hesitation, he slipped past the Headmaster's Office. To avoid the ghosts and portraits, he had to use narrow gaps and dark shadows to conceal himself.
Sirius kept running, quickly shaking off the ghosts. As for Snape, he hadn't heard his footsteps for a long time.
There was a dust-covered, narrow gap behind the wizard statue, too tight to stand in, but Sirius expertly leaped onto the statue's base, like a nimble hound. The fresh blood flowing from his wound splattered into the gap, quickly absorbed by the dust, leaving almost no trace.
He circled around a few times, making the trail of blood close upon itself. Even if Snape tracked the blood into the gap, he wouldn't be able to pinpoint Sirius's location.
Hiding in an abandoned classroom, he grabbed a handful of dust to pack the wound, then tore a strip of fabric to bandage it tightly. Although the blood was still flowing, it would take a while to soak through, giving him a chance to completely shake off the pursuit.
He just needed to hide until they let down their guard, then find an opportunity to go downstairs and leave.
"Ssssh..."
Fine sweat beaded on Sirius's forehead; the pain made his eyes water. "That filthy Snivellus! That was absolutely dark magic."
"Meow!"
A sharp cat yowl suddenly came from outside the door, followed by the sound of scratching wood.
The caretaker's cat?
Sirius, sitting in the abandoned classroom, his back straight, suddenly hunched over, his face swallowed by shadow. He felt both ridiculous and humiliated, like a dog driven into a corner.
The torches and candles on the entire floor were lit. Ghosts and portraits were gradually closing in. Snape might have been momentarily delayed by his clever tricks, but it wouldn't be long before they caught up, guided by Mrs. Norris.
Then he'd be handed over to the Aurors and meet the Dementor's Kiss.
Sirius contemplated his foreseeable future, thinking of James and Remus.
When they were duelling just now, Remus's sudden move—Sirius understood it was actually a help, giving him the chance to break free from the entanglement instead of being trapped in a stalemate, slowly worn down by Snape, accumulating injuries, and finally captured like prey.
When Remus cast the spell, his face was full of conflict, just like back at school when he saw them tormenting Snivellus. But in the end, he still stood with the Marauders. He was still willing to trust him.
Sirius sat on the cold classroom floor, feeling the blood slowly soaking through his arm, changing from warm to cold. His entire body was gradually turning frigid.
Right now, he finally felt a flicker of comfort.
Just then, the scratching at the door outside became frantic.
"Meow..."
"Meow!"
Two successive cat yowls, neither pleasant—one high-pitched, the other hoarse.
"It's Crookshanks!"
Sirius's eyes lit up. "Crookshanks is holding off Mrs. Norris! I can move and hide somewhere else! I still have a chance!"
With the immediate crisis averted, Sirius listened to the receding cat sounds and felt that Lady Luck had merely been napping and hadn't managed to let him tear apart Wormtail yet. Now that she was awake, his good fortune would continue.
His heart, which had rested for a moment, began racing again. He squeezed every bit of vitality from his cold body. He grabbed another handful of dust for his wound—the pain made his mind clearer—and once again transformed into the large black dog, darting out of the classroom and melting into the shadows.
As he ran, his blood flowed faster, intensifying the pain of the wound.
He just hoped to completely escape the pursuit before he passed out from blood loss.
The candlelight and torchlight flickered simultaneously. The two cats faced each other, their claws bared and teeth showing almost at the same time.
The ginger-colored, flat-faced cat arched its back high, its fluffy fur standing up like needles. The lean, dark-gray cat lowered its head, letting out a warning hiss from its throat.
The two cats circled slowly in the passage, their low, subtle growls tightening the atmosphere.
The moment their eyes met, both cats leaped simultaneously. Their sharp teeth and claws flashed coldly. One was a part-Kneazle, the other a caretaker's pet. It felt inevitable that blood would spray and fur would be stained red.
But a much bigger figure suddenly shot out from the side.
The heavy dog's feet broke the cats' attack. The pressing force of the sudden pounce was irresistibly heavy, pinning both cats down, pressing them firmly against the floor.
Crookshanks and Mrs. Norris showed a very human look of disbelief in their eyes. They struggled to lift their heads. Fang, with a pale-gray baby snake wrapped around his neck, pressed his two front paws onto their bellies without extending his claws. Like his master, he crushed the two cats with sheer weight, making it hard for them to fight back.
Mrs. Norris was clearly not giving up, letting out a piercing yowl:
"Meow!"
As if demanding to see the Headmaster! The cat opposite was Hogwarts' Cat of Crime, helping Black infiltrate the castle and endanger students!
"Meow..."
Crookshanks argued back with a stiff neck.
Fang tilted his head, looking quizzically at the baby snake.
"Sss-ss-ss—"
The thin, forked tongue darted in and out. Yurmu whispered a few things into the dog's ear, then slowly turned his head to look at the two cats. The snake's face was expressionless, but in a very fitting way, reminiscent of his master's style.
The baby snake hesitated for a moment, then tried to open its mouth and make a cat-like sound, thin and reedy.
"Meow..."
Crookshanks broke a school rule. Its owner will face the appropriate punishment.
A cat sound from a snake's mouth?
Both cats' eyes widened in terror simultaneously.
In the quiet corridor, Sirius held his breath and ran with his head down, not daring to stop.
A dog's sensitive hearing and smell could pinpoint the location of his pursuers. He could smell many familiar scents: the four Heads of House, many elective class professors, and Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds. He had gained some distance, but he couldn't stop yet; he had to find a safe place.
His vision was starting to blacken again. He didn't need to hang his tongue out and pant; the constantly bleeding wound was consuming his body temperature.
He was going to pass out if he ran any further.
Sirius's heart stirred slightly. The professors' scent was very faint now; the distance was great enough. He felt maybe the pursuers had been shaken off, and he could hide in a gap behind a statue or in a pile of junk in an abandoned classroom.
He stopped to catch his breath, wringing the last bits of reason from his hazy brain, barely managing to discern his direction through his blurry, doubled vision.
Looking around, the Hogwarts corridors all looked roughly the same. There were almost no portraits on the wall, only a tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy and several Trolls in tutus, leaning against each other, undisturbed in their sleep by the night's commotion.
"In such an out-of-the-way spot, surely no one will be coming this way, right?"
Sirius thought that his pursuers seemed to have been completely lost, and the caretaker's cat was being held off by Crookshanks.
He supported himself against the wall and walked forward. Just a few steps away, his breathing became more labored. His brain was turning to mush; he couldn't hear anything except his own heartbeat.
He clutched the bandage wrapped around his arm, moving slowly in the dim corridor. His wound was shallow and short, yet it showed no sign of healing. What vicious Dark Magic. What a despicable Snivellus. Why would Dumbledore keep a Death Eater like that in the school?
His vision suddenly dimmed as a figure stood in the corridor ahead.
"Who is pursuing me so closely?"
Sirius felt utterly hopeless. He propped up his weak body and looked up at the wizard ahead.
He was suddenly stunned. In his blurred, doubled vision, it wasn't any familiar professor but a young wizard standing a few dozen feet away.
The person looked only slightly older than a seventh-year student, about twenty, with a handsome face and deep, black eyes. His expression was a knowing half-smile. He was wearing a trench coat clearly made by Muggles, though his refined air was similar to those pure-blood wizards.
Equally annoying.
Melvin's gaze dropped, looking at his arm. Blood had soaked through the fabric, staining his entire arm red.
"Haven't I seen you before? On the Hogwarts Express—the wizard who wanted to eat dog meat?" Sirius asked faintly, his voice weak.
"You should be thinking about finding a suitable sanctuary now," Melvin shook his head. This man's vitality and willpower are equally stubborn.
"Sanctuary..."
"A warm, comfortable room... a room where no one else can find you..."
Melvin was speaking normally, but in Sirius's ears, the voice was drifting and distant, guiding his stalled thoughts, creating a concrete room in his mind.
"I happen to know a place like that."
"How do I get there?"
"Walk forward, then turn and keep walking... turn again... turn, you're there."
Sirius had stopped thinking, blindly following the guidance of the voice, pacing back and forth in front of the tapestry until he stopped in place and belatedly realized what was happening.
"Are you messing with me?" he asked hesitantly.
His final word caught in his throat. A door with old, peeling paint, looking somewhat worn and familiar, had appeared on the empty wall. Just a few minutes ago, there had been nothing there—no portraits, no torches, let alone a door.
"It's very safe inside."
Sirius slowly walked toward the door, passing Melvin. He carried the sour smell of a vagrant mixed with the metallic scent of blood.
Melvin suddenly called out to him. Under Sirius's confused gaze, he pulled out a white porcelain bottle and tossed it into his hands:
"A potion left by Madam Hufflepuff. It can remove the effects of Dark Magic. It should stop the bleeding. Use it after you clean the wound to prevent infection."
Sirius silently took the bottle, then moved closer to the wall, pulled open the door, and stepped into the Room of Requirement.
Behind the wooden door was a spacious, well-lit room. The fireplace was warm, and the air held the scent of shampoo. The solid wood floor creaked underfoot, exactly like the bedroom he remembered.
Godric's Hollow, the old Potter cottage.
He had stayed there after graduating when he broke with his parents and had nowhere else to go.
The outline of the old wooden door gradually became blurry, melting into the castle wall. Its color also faded, completely disappearing in a few seconds, leaving no trace.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, how many more secrets about the castle haven't you told me?"
Professor McGonagall materialized in front of the Barnabas tapestry, her tone uncharacteristically plaintive. "The Room of Requirement is hidden on the eighth floor of the school, and you'd rather tell Melvin, who's only taught here for two years, than keep your Deputy Headmistress, who's worked with you for decades, in the loop?"
"I didn't tell Melvin; he discovered it himself, Minerva. It's an unspoken rule at Hogwarts: everyone must discover the castle's secrets for themselves," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.
Professor McGonagall looked at Melvin beside her, and he shrugged.
No offense, but the elective class professor who's taught here for two years knows the school better than the Deputy Headmistress who's taught here for decades.
"..."
McGonagall was silent for a moment. "Sirius Black, that boy... do you believe he's been wrongly accused? What exactly is he trying to do by going to all this trouble to sneak into the castle?"
"Patience, we will find the answer."