Night came thick and clear, the stars sharp overhead in the cold mountain air.
The campfire crackled orange. Six camping chairs arranged in a rough circle around it. Each of them had a fish skewered on a stick, attempting to grill it over the open flame with widely varying results.
"This takes genuine skill," Kevin said, studying his charred specimen.
No one contradicted him. The fish they'd caught that afternoon had seemed like a good idea at the time.
"I wish I'd brought Crookshanks," Hermione said. "He'd have loved it out here."
"Not if you're feeding him that," she added quickly, looking at Ron's offering.
Ron pulled the fish away from the worst of the flames, or tried to. "Kevin, can you talk to Hermione about that cat? It keeps going after Scabbers."
"A cat that catches rats is a good cat. Can't help you there, Ron."
"You just always take her side."
Kevin put his hands on his hips. "Ron — how long have you had that rat?"
Ron thought back. "Over ten years, I think. He was around when I was little."
"That long?" Hermione sounded sharper than she'd meant to. "Normal rats don't live that long."
"What? Dogs and cats do."
"Mice live two or three years," Kevin said. "Three at the outside."
Ron stared at Scabbers, who was curled in his pocket.
"..."
Kevin let it sit. Not the right moment to push it further.
"Never mind. It's late."
"Kids, time for bed." The Grangers had appeared from their tent, warm cups in hand. "Big day tomorrow."
No one argued. They packed up and moved inside.
They didn't sleep, obviously. They piled into the central lounge of the tent — a big rug, cushions on all sides — and kept talking.
Hogwarts, always. Lockhart. The year that had been a complete waste of curriculum.
"He couldn't have taken any of us in a fight," Harry said.
"Ron could probably handle him," Kevin confirmed.
Ron looked up. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"
Everyone laughed.
"Who's teaching Defence next year? Any chance Snape finally gets it?"
Draco looked at Kevin. Everyone knew he had Snape's ear.
"If Snape had the job, I'd have received a letter by now," Kevin said. "Something elegant and threatening. He'd have phrased it as encouragement."
They weren't sure if that suggested Snape trusted him or had it in for him.
A flapping sound from outside. Then an owl dropped into the tent, swooped to Kevin's arm, and deposited a letter.
"From Snape," Kevin said, reading the seal.
They stared at him. They had literally just been joking about Snape sending letters.
Kevin opened it. His expression shifted — not alarm, exactly. Something more considered.
"What?" Harry leaned forward. "Did we call it? Is he Defence teacher?"
"No." Kevin set the letter down and looked at Harry steadily. "He wants me to bring you back to Hogwarts in three days. Before term."
Silence.
"Something's happened?" Harry asked.
"Something's happened. The important people think it's serious. I think it's manageable." Kevin paused. "Short version, Harry: a prisoner broke out of Azkaban specifically to come after you. Touched?"
No one laughed. The word Azkaban had hit the room like something physical.
"What?!" Draco's voice came out higher than usual. The others weren't far behind.
"Listen," Kevin said, and held up a hand before the panic found its feet. "His name is Sirius Black, Harry. He was close to your parents — all three of them knew each other well. When Voldemort was hunting your family, someone betrayed their location. Sirius was the prime suspect. Twelve years in Azkaban for it." A pause. "Now he's out, and according to Snape's letter, he's coming straight for Hogwarts."
He kept it simple. He'd give Harry the rest — including Dumbledore's doubts — when the time was right.
The camp fire outside had died to embers. In here, the silence had weight.
Harry's face had gone through several changes while Kevin was speaking. Now it was very still.
"Everyone get some sleep," Kevin said. "We'll talk to the Grangers in the morning. Nothing's coming here tonight."
"Harry — come outside with me for a minute."
The others watched Harry stand. They all had the same look — the one that said they understood this one was his to carry.
Kevin held the tent flap.
Cold outside. Stars everywhere.
"There's one more thing I held back," Kevin said. "Sirius Black is your godfather."
Harry's expression collapsed and rebuilt itself into something raw.
"He's your family," Kevin said. "Which makes what he supposedly did worse. Your parents trusted him completely. He was their closest friend."
"I don't want to go back." Harry's voice came out flat, then quickly hot. "I want to stay here. Wait for him. I'll sort it out myself."
"Honestly?" Kevin said. "My first instinct is also to set up an ambush."
Harry's eyes lit.
"But here's the thing —" Kevin kept his voice even. "He doesn't know you're camping. He only knows you'll be heading to Hogwarts. He'll go there. If we stay here, we might miss him entirely."
Harry slowed down. That hadn't occurred to him.
It was, admittedly, entirely made up. Sirius would find Harry wherever Harry was. But the logic would hold long enough to get Harry back to safety.
"Harry." Kevin put a hand on his shoulder. "When have I lied to you?"
Harry met his eyes.
"We go back together. If Sirius shows, I'm backing you up. But right now you need a clear head, not a plan made in anger. Whatever he is — traitor or not — you can't know yet. And you need to know before you act."
The fire in Harry's face banked, slowly. Not gone. But banked.
"...All right," he said at last. "All right, Kevin."
Kevin slung an arm around his shoulders and walked him back.
The trip was over.
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