That same night, September 2, in Hogsmeade, at the Shrieking Shack.
Sirius Black sat on the floor. Dust lay everywhere, and it looked as though no one had been here for years. Sirius was probably the first visitor the place had seen in all that time.
There were plenty of spiders, too. Sirius had picked them off one by one.
Never underestimate insects, animals, or plants.
Sirius couldn't take any chances. He didn't know whether these spiders might know some enormous, talking monster who could give away his whereabouts.
He sat on the floor, brewing Potions.
His wand was in his hand. He was prepared to leave at a moment's notice—or kill himself. Sending Dewey to Hogwarts was a huge gamble. If Dewey was caught, Snape could use Legilimency on him, perfectly legally and with every justification, without even needing Veritaserum. That would expose Sirius's location.
He didn't think Dewey could withstand Snape's Legilimency.
What kind of madman would dare deceive Dumbledore?
Even now, Sirius still thought Dewey was crazy.
He knew the plan was full of flaws, with far too many details impossible to predict in advance. If Dewey wanted to stay safely at Hogwarts, he would need an incredible ability to improvise. Sirius Black breathed out a cloud of cold air, rubbed his hands together, and continued brewing the potion.
Hogsmeade Village stood on a mountain. It snowed there year-round, and the weather was bitterly cold.
Sirius didn't dare light the fireplace here. He could only rely on his own physical toughness to withstand the cold.
The potion continued to brew. He leaned against the wall, hovering between wakefulness and sleep. Like Dewey, he wasn't used to sleeping in a bed. They were both afraid when they slept, both prone to waking in terror. Every time they drifted off, they were met with a nightmare they couldn't wake from.
That dark, sunken island.
The souls of those who had been to Azkaban remained there forever.
September 2.
Early in the morning, Dewey woke up from the floor, full of energy. Not even nightmares, or having to wake once an hour to drink his medicine, could leave him dispirited.
A man whose mind was filled with revenge and grand plans wouldn't be broken so easily.
The Dewey who had been broken had died long ago.
The ordinary transmigrator had never made it out of Azkaban.
He had remained there forever, or perhaps died on the ship that carried him to Azkaban.
Dewey carefully examined himself in the mirror and gave an utterly unremarkable smile. He checked the potion, then checked his hair once more. Once he was sure everything was in order, he opened his suitcase.
He stepped inside, and half his body disappeared into it. The suitcase contained a vast space. Down the ladder was a place filled with teaching equipment. Everything looked fine.
After moving a certain table aside, he found another passageway. Behind a curtain beside it was Lupin.
Lupin silently watched the man before him, who looked exactly like him. He couldn't even bring himself to scold him.
Lupin had been forced to drink a lot of Potions. He was very weak and couldn't use magic. The ropes binding him were tight enough to ensure he couldn't escape, and Sirius had enchanted the entire curtain. Even if Lupin screamed at the top of his lungs, no one would hear him.
There was no way he could escape on his own.
Lupin knew that even the chair beneath him had been enchanted.
Dewey had cut some more of Lupin's hair and given him a potion that ensured he could eat his fill without needing to relieve himself. A very curious potion, wasn't it?
There was nothing the magical world didn't have.
In Hogsmeade, you could even buy potions that made your sweat and bodily waste smell like perfume. They were said to sell like hotcakes.
Watching Dewey get ready to leave, Lupin said quietly but firmly, "You're deceiving him."
Dewey stopped.
He turned around and checked the time on his watch. There were still two hours before class. He pulled over a chair and sat down in front of Lupin, leaning forward with his weight on his elbows, which rested on his thighs.
He lowered his head and interlaced all ten fingers in front of it, as though in prayer.
"Why do you say that, Professor Lupin? I already told you: the Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm wasn't Black. Once we catch Peter Pettigrew, he'll be proven innocent. Where have I lied?"
He lowered his voice and asked curiously.
"Yes, everything you said is entirely possible," Lupin replied weakly. He had to pause for breath after every sentence. He was utterly exhausted, but his thoughts were clear. Slowly, he continued, "That's not what I mean. You know what I'm talking about.
"I mean that you haven't deceived him about catching Peter Pettigrew.
"You've deceived him about something else. Even if he's proven innocent, he'll be sent back to Azkaban."
Dewey suddenly raised his head, humming as he changed position and pulled some chocolate from his pocket.
He ate the chocolate and ignored Lupin.
Lupin didn't mind Dewey's attitude. He continued explaining softly, "If you hadn't attacked the Weasley family and the Hit Wizards, then catching Peter Pettigrew and earning Dumbledore's trust—with him vouching for Sirius—might really have freed him. But now, you've not only attacked the Ministry of Magic's Hit Wizards; more importantly, you've also injured Ministry officials.
"That's a serious crime.
"How did Sirius end up in Azkaban in the first place? He was never put on trial. They caught him and threw him into Azkaban.
"That was against the rules from the start.
"Everyone knows it was against the rules. Black's very existence is a crime!
"So!
"Even if Sirius proves his innocence, he'll be sent back to Azkaban for attacking Ministry officials. Do you understand?
"Black's very existence is a shameful chapter in history!
"Sending Sirius Black to prison without a trial was a decision made by the entire Ministry of Magic. Do you understand? The old Ministry officials who wanted to leave and the newly appointed officials were all desperate to bury every trace of the Dark Lord. Stubborn Death Eaters and some innocent people were thrown into prison and made to disappear.
"The Pure-blood Families and Death Eaters who had finally escaped conviction would never allow something that had once been settled beyond doubt to be overturned.
"Everything was destined to happen!
"Even if someone knew that another person was innocent, it wouldn't make any difference. The Ministry of Magic would never admit it was wrong. It would only make sure no one found out about its mistake!
"The Ministry of Magic would only bury it. Unless someone was willing to stand up for Sirius, and now that you've attacked Ministry personnel, even that escape route is gone!"
By the time Lupin finished, his limp body had regained a little strength. He struggled against his bonds until the ropes pulled taut, looked straight at Dewey, and roared weakly, "So you're deceiving him! You can't prove him innocent at all, because he's already committed a crime.
"Do you understand? You're a liar!"
Watching Lupin's agitation, Dewey giggled, then laughed so hard he clutched his stomach, tears welling in his eyes. Lupin couldn't tell whether Dewey had understood what he was saying, because at that moment Dewey looked like a madman.
After finishing the chocolate, Dewey began chewing thoughtfully on his index fingernail. He lowered his head slightly and crossed his legs, sneaking glances at Lupin.
Lupin suddenly lost heart.
He felt as if he were speaking to a wall. None of his words had made any difference.
"Are you finished?"
Dewey had stared at Lupin for half an hour before he asked with a silly grin. Lupin didn't say anything. Dewey's expression changed in an instant, becoming solemn and proper, resolute yet gentle. These contradictory feelings appeared in Dewey, yet seemed completely natural.
Lupin found it rather unnerving.
He felt as though he were looking in a mirror.
Every move Dewey made was exactly like his own.
"Professor Lupin," Dewey said, smiling at him. If Lupin had looked in a mirror, he would have seen that Dewey's smile was exactly like his own. "If you're finished, I should leave and go teach my students.
"I'll come see you again, all right?
"You don't need to worry about all these problems. I'll take care of them for you.
"Next time, tell me just as much. Your perspective is very useful for helping me understand this world."
He turned and left, and Lupin remained frozen in place.
For a moment, he couldn't tell which Dewey was the real one.
Dewey locked the suitcase and left it in the most conspicuous spot in the room, in plain sight. Then he locked the door and went to the Great Hall for breakfast. Today was his first day teaching. If he remembered correctly, he had two classes to teach that morning, both for second-year students from different houses.
He also had classes in the afternoon.
There wasn't a single idle teacher at Hogwarts. They had classes every day. They didn't have to publish papers or conduct research, but they were no less busy than other professors. Teaching alone was a heavy workload.
He saw Snape in the Great Hall. Snape paid him no attention. After Severus had finished the breakfast in front of him and was leaving, Professor Severus's lips moved ever so slightly. Dewey heard Snape's gloomy voice.
"Teach your classes properly. I'll be watching for you to make a fool of yourself."
Dewey didn't respond. He finished breakfast and got ready to teach.
He had already planned his lessons on the way there.
When it came to misleading people, he was a professional.
For the first and second years, he had prepared "An Introduction to Dark Magic."
For the third and fourth years, who would one day have to fight the Death Eaters, he had prepared "Understanding Dark Magic" and "Defending Against Dark Magic."
For the fifth years, it was "Everything Must Give Way to the Ordinary Wizarding Levels: Learning How to Take the Exam."
For the sixth years, it was "Laying the Groundwork for the N.E.W.T.s."
And for the seventh years, it was "Specialized N.E.W.T. Training."
Once he'd divided things up this way, Dewey immediately felt much more relaxed. He finished breakfast, wiped his mouth, and left the Great Hall.
A new day had begun.
"Let's see. Monday morning... second-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws... Hmm, where are they supposed to meet me?"
Dewey left the Great Hall with ease. If he was reading the Marauder's Map correctly, this path did lead to the classroom. Once there, he could wait quietly for the students to arrive.
"Interesting."
He said it to himself, picked up his wand, and pulled out a book. He set it down in front of him beside his wand.
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