Three Turns to Midnight

Olivia Middleton's POV

"Ron, are you okay? Is your leg alright?" I ask, helping him onto the old couch. His face is pale, his breathing ragged, but he nods. "Yes," he says, gripping my shoulder. "But you shouldn't have done that. Your life's in danger now."

"And yours isn't?" I mutter, rolling his pant leg up to examine the wound. The bite looks deep, angry. I wince at the sight of it just as Harry and Hermione burst through the door. "Harry, it's a trap," Ron warns, pointing at the doorway. "He's an Animagus—he's the dog. It's Sirius Black."

My breath catches in my throat as I turn to the doorway and see him. Standing there with wild hair and even wilder eyes, a mad, haunted look carved into his face. Before I can react, Harry launches at him—rage twisting his features—and slams him to the floor, hands around his throat. He draws his wand and shoves it at Black's chest.

"Are you going to kill me, Harry?" Sirius croaks out, laughing, actually laughing. "Harry, no!" I cry, panic surging in my chest.

That's when Professor Lupin bursts in, eyes scanning the room before he strides over and pulls Harry back with a sharp gesture. Hermione tugs Harry away, holding him close. "Well, well, Sirius. Looking rather ragged, aren't we?" Lupin says, leveling his wand at him. "Finally, the flesh reflects the madness within."

"You'd know all about the madness within, wouldn't you?" Sirius snaps back, voice cracking. Something unspoken passes between them—and then Lupin lowers his wand and pulls him into a hug. I blink in confusion. My mind's trying to catch up.

"No! I trusted you!" Hermione shouts, her voice trembling. "And all this time, you've been his friend? He's a werewolf! That's why you've been missing classes!"

"How long have you known?" Lupin asks gently. "Since Snape assigned that essay on werewolves," Hermione admits. "Well, well, well, Hermione," Lupin says, a strange fondness in his tone. "You really are the brightest witch of your age." Then his eyes flick to me. "And you? Miss Middleton?"

I hesitate, guilt flooding my chest. "Since Professor Snape told the Slytherins... and Malfoy told me," I mutter, unable to meet anyone's gaze. I hate how small my voice sounds. "Enough talk," Sirius says suddenly, stepping forward, his eyes on Ron. "Let's kill him."

My stomach drops. Kill Ron?

But then I realize—he's not looking at Ron. He's staring at Scabbers.

No. Not Scabbers. Peter Pettigrew. It hits me like ice down my spine. The rat is Peter Pettigrew.

Harry lunges again—but this time, it's at Snape, who's just arrived. Harry sends him flying across the room and crashing onto the old bed, which collapses in a heap of dust and wood.

And then, right before our eyes, Scabbers shifts. Twists. Warps.

He becomes a man.

"Remus? Sirius? My old friends..." Peter says weakly, his voice thin and fake. Then he spots Harry and lights up. "You look just like your father."

"How dare you speak to him?" Sirius growls, shaking. "How dare you say James' name when you betrayed him?" Both wands now point at Peter. "The Dark Lord," Peter gasps, frantic. "You have no idea the weapons he possesses! You know, right?" His eyes snap to me.

Me?

Why would I know? Why is he saying that to me?

"Don't you dare talk to her!" Lupin snaps before I can ask. "You have no status to speak to her like that."

Status?

What status? Does he—does he know about my powers?

I barely have time to process it before Harry steps forward, voice firm. "I know what he is. But we'll take him to the castle. After that, the dementors can have him." Peter starts whimpering, falling to his knees.

And I... I can't stop shaking.

"Sorry about the bite. I think that twinges a bit," Sirius says as Harry and I help Ron limp along. "A bit? You almost tore my leg off!" Ron snaps, glaring at him, then turns his eyes on me. "And with all that pulling, Liv, you nearly took off my arm."

"I was going for the rat," Sirius mutters defensively. "And I was trying to save your life," I shoot back, rolling my eyes. "Remind me not to bother next time."

We emerge from the tree and onto the Hogwarts grounds. The night air hits my face, cool and sharp. Hermione and I sit with Ron while Harry walks ahead, deep in conversation with Sirius. I try not to sulk, but honestly—being the third wheel between those two is exhausting. They're both lovable idiots, and they don't even realize it yet.

"It looks painful," Hermione says gently, staring at the bite on Ron's leg. "Really painful. They might have to chop it off!" Ron cries dramatically. I groan and roll my eyes. "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey could fix it in her sleep."

"Nope, too late. It's ruined. I can feel it," he moans, milking it for all it's worth. "Oh, stop it, you big baby. It's not ruined and it's definitely not too late," I say, pulling my wand out. "Here—this'll numb the pain a little."

As I cast the charm, Professor Lupin drags Peter Pettigrew out. Suddenly, Peter lunges—grabbing Ron, of all people. "Ron, I was your rat," he pleads, eyes wild. "Don't send me to the dementors. They'll perform the Kiss!"

Then he turns to me.

"I know you can do it, my lady."

My what?

My stomach clenches. My lady? What does that even mean? Why would he call me that?

Before I can ask, Lupin yanks him back with a growl. "Get away from her."

"Harry!" Hermione's voice cuts through the air, high and panicked. She's pointing up—at the full moon.

Oh no.

Sirius bolts over, his face drained of color. "Remus—did you take your potion? Remus!"

But it's too late.

Lupin transforms right in front of us, twisting and snarling, bones cracking and reshaping as he turns into a furious, snarling werewolf. Peter uses the chaos to escape.

Snape suddenly appears—where did he even come from?—but I barely register him before I shove him sideways, shielding him as Lupin lunges at us.

The world goes sideways.

I crash down hard, Snape and I landing on one side, Harry, Hermione, and Ron thrown to the other. "Are—are you okay, Olivia?" Snape asks, breathless. "Yes, Professor," I lie, even though my shoulder is on fire. Blood trickles down my arm—Lupin's claws got me. I blink hard, trying to stop the tears, but the pain is unbearable.

"How can you be so foolish, my child?" he murmurs, looking at me with something like disbelief—and concern. Sirius leaps between us and the werewolf just in time. The two beasts collide, claws slashing, teeth bared. Snape scrambles up, standing in front of me, shielding me with his body.

They fight viciously—until something in the distance howls, and Lupin freezes. The cry of another werewolf. He turns and runs. Harry follows. "Harry, no!" I cry out, trying to chase after him, but Snape grabs my arm just in time.

"Come back here, Potter!" he bellows.

His arms hold me tight as I sway on my feet—and then everything tilts. The last thing I feel is Snape catching me before I hit the ground.

They rush us to the hospital wing. My shoulder still burns—I haven't recovered, not really. I drift in and out of consciousness, catching fragments of conversation like whispers in fog.

"Three times." "Time."

Time?

My eyelids flutter open, heavy as stone. The world slowly comes into focus. Ron is fast asleep. And on my right—Draco. His head rests beside my arm, his hand wrapped around mine.

What the hell...?

I shift slightly, and that's all it takes—he wakes up with a sharp inhale and instantly pulls me into a hug. "You're okay," he murmurs against my hair. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" I ask, stiffening. I try to pull back, but the moment I speak, I hear it.

A werewolf's howl.

And just like that, it all comes rushing back—Lupin, Peter, the moon, Sirius.

Harry and Hermione... they must've used the Time-Turner.

"I have to go," I say suddenly, already pushing the sheets away. "Go? Where?" Draco's hands are on my shoulders now, hurting but holding me back. "I'm not letting you go anywhere!"

"Malfoy, please," I whisper. "You have to understand." He groans and starts pacing beside the bed, rubbing his face in frustration. "Fine. I'm coming with you."

"No. I can't risk your life."

"It's with me or not at all," he snaps, voice low but firm.

I stare at him for a second, searching his eyes.

"Fine," I say. "But no questions. Not now, not later—not ever." I jab my finger at him to make my point. He nods once. I reach into my pocket and pull out the Time-Turner—Mrs. Malfoy's gift from Christmas. It used to be my mother's. I lace the chain around our hands and turn it three times.

Please let this be right.

The world blurs, folds in on itself—and then we're in the Forbidden Forest.

No sign of Harry or Hermione.

"Where did you learn to Apparate?" Draco asks, eyes wide. I shoot him a look. "Sounds like a question" He gets the message.

We spot Lupin—no, the werewolf version of him—about to attack Harry. Before I can even react, Draco cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a perfect imitation of a werewolf's cry. "What are you doing?!" I hiss. "Saving Potter! What do you think?" he shoots back, all attitude.

"Brilliant. Now he's coming for us!" I snap, already running. "Didn't think it through, did you?" We sprint toward the lake, hand in hand. He's ahead, pulling me with him. Behind us, snarls echo—Lupin is gaining on us.

"It's Lupin, isn't it?" Draco pants. I nod. "Yes. But it's going to be fine—we just have to be quick."

But then I trip.

I hit the ground hard, dirt scraping my palms. "Draco, go!" I shout. "Find Harry and Hermione—they should be nearby!"

"What, and leave you alone?" He turns back, furious.

I can feel Lupin getting closer—too close. Draco doesn't hesitate. He steps in front of me, shielding me with his body.

No. No. No.

Then—a cry, massive wings, the sound of claws hitting the earth.

Buckbeak.

He's alive?

Harry and Hermione must have saved him. Buckbeak barrels into the werewolf, slashing and driving him back. "Come on!" I shout, scrambling to my feet and dragging Draco with me.

We race to the lake.

And there—Sirius and Harry. Surrounded.

Dementors swarm them like smoke with teeth. I don't think. I just raise my wand.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The force of it roars out of me—blazing silver-blue light that pulses from my wand like a wave. The dementors scatter, shrieking into the night.

But it's too much.

My knees buckle. Everything spins.

I collapse into Draco's arms, the last thing I see is his face—panicked, terrified—before everything fades to black.