Harry Potter 3 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

I need you to sign the per­mis­sion form,’ said Har­ry in a rush.

‘And why should I do that?’ sneered Un­cle Ver­non.

‘Well,’ said Har­ry, choos­ing his words care­ful­ly, ‘it’ll be hard work, pre­tend­ing to Aunt Marge I go to that St What­sits …’

‘St Bru­tus’s Se­cure Cen­tre for In­cur­ably Crim­inal Boys!’ bel­lowed Un­cle Ver­non, and Har­ry was pleased to hear a def­inite note of pan­ic in Un­cle Ver­non’s voice.

‘Ex­act­ly,’ said Har­ry, look­ing calm­ly up in­to Un­cle Ver­non’s large, pur­ple face. ‘It’s a lot to re­mem­ber. I’ll have to make it sound con­vinc­ing, won’t I? What if I ac­ci­den­tal­ly let some­thing slip?’

‘You’ll get the stuff­ing knocked out of you, won’t you?’ roared Un­cle Ver­non, ad­vanc­ing on Har­ry with his fist raised. But Har­ry stood his ground.

‘Knock­ing the stuff­ing out of me won’t make Aunt Marge for­get what I could tell her,’ he said grim­ly.

Un­cle Ver­non stopped, his fist still raised, his face an ug­ly puce.

‘But if you sign my per­mis­sion form,’ Har­ry went on quick­ly, ‘I swear I’ll re­mem­ber where I’m sup­posed to go to school, and I’ll act like a Mug – like I’m nor­mal and ev­ery­thing.’

Har­ry could tell that Un­cle Ver­non was think­ing it over, even if his teeth were bared and a vein was throb­bing in his tem­ple

“Hang on,” blurted Harry. “What about my punishment?”

Fudge blinked.

“Punishment?”

“I broke the law!” Harry said. “The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!”

“Oh, my dear boy, we’re not going to punish you for a little thing like that!” cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. “It was an accident! We don’t send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!”

Harry’s mind was buzzing. He was going to leave the Dursleys. He was going to live with Sirius Black, his parents’ best friend. . . . He felt dazed.

Harry waited. Did Sirius mean what he thought he meant?

“I’ll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,” said Sirius. “But . . . well . . . think about it. Once my name’s cleared . . . if you wanted a . . . a different home . . .”

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry’s stomach.

“What — live with you?” he said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. “Leave the Dursleys?”

“Of course, I thought you wouldn’t want to,” said Sirius quickly. “I understand, I just thought I’d —”

“Are you insane?” said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Sirius’s. “Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?”

You know what this means?” Sirius said abruptly to Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. “Turning Pettigrew in?”

“You’re free,” said Harry.

“Yes . . . ,” said Sirius. “But I’m also — I don’t know if anyone ever told you — I’m your godfather.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” said Harry.

“Well . . . your parents appointed me your guardian,” said Sirius stiffly. “If anything happened to them . . .”

“He — he was taking over everywhere!” gasped Pettigrew. “W-what was there to be gained by refusing him?”

“What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?” said Black, with a terrible fury in his face. “Only innocent lives, Peter!”

HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?” roared Black. “HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?”

If you made a better rat than a human, it’s not much to boast about, Peter,” said Black harshly.

“Not at all, Padfoot, old friend,” said Lupin, who was now rolling up his sleeves. “And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?”

“Of course,” said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. “Shall we kill him together?”

“Yes, I think so,” said Lupin grimly.

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

“There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them,” said Black.