She and Harry got to their feet. Buckbeak raised his head. They saw Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the roots . . . followed by the unconscious Snape, drifting weirdly upward. Next came Harry, Hermione, and Black. They all began to walk toward the castle.

Harry’s heart was starting to beat very fast. He glanced up at the sky. Any moment now, that cloud was going to move aside and show the moon . . .

“Harry,” Hermione muttered as though she knew exactly what he was thinking, “we’ve got to stay put. We mustn’t be seen. There’s nothing we can do . . . ”

“So we’re just going to let Pettigrew escape all over again . . . ” said Harry quietly.

“How do you expect to find a rat in the dark?” snapped Hermione. “There’s nothing we can do! We came back to help Sirius; we’re not supposed to be doing anything else!”

“All right!”

The moon slid out from behind its cloud. They saw the tiny figures across the grounds stop. Then they saw movement—

“There goes Lupin,” Hermione whispered. “He’s transforming—”

“Hermione!” said Harry suddenly. “We’ve got to move!”

“We mustn’t, I keep telling you—”

“Not to interfere! Lupin’s going to run into the forest, right at us!”

Hermione gasped.

“Quick!” she moaned, dashing to untie Buckbeak. “Quick! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide? The dementors will be coming any moment—”

“Back to Hagrid’s!” Harry said. “It’s empty now—come on!”

They ran as fast as they could, Buckbeak cantering along behind them. They could hear the werewolf howling behind them . . .

The cabin was in sight; Harry skidded to the door, wrenched it open, and Hermione and Buckbeak flashed past him; Harry threw himself in after them and bolted the door. Fang the boarhound barked loudly.

“Shh, Fang, it’s us!” said Hermione, hurrying over and scratching his ears to quieten him. “That was really close!” she said to Harry.

“Yeah . . . ”

Harry was looking out of the window. It was much harder to see what was going on from here. Buckbeak seemed very happy to find himself back inside Hagrid’s house. He lay down in front of the fire, folded his wings contentedly, and seemed ready for a good nap.

“I think I’d better go outside again, you know,” said Harry slowly. “I can’t see what’s going on—we won’t know when it’s time—”

Hermione looked up. Her expression was suspicious.

“I’m not going to try and interfere,” said Harry quickly. “But if we don’t see what’s going on, how’re we going to know when it’s time to rescue Sirius?”

“Well . . . okay, then . . . I’ll wait here with Buckbeak . . . but Harry, be careful—there’s a werewolf out there—and the dementors—”