FIFTEEN
' when the sun goes down '

☾⋆₊✧

JUNE
1994

"WE'VE got to go for help—" Hermione cried. She was bleeding, too, the Willow having sliced her shoulder.

"No! That thing's big enough to eat him—there's no other way! We have to go after him," Callie cried, her voice high with panic. She gripped her wand tightly, her mind racing.

"We're never going to get through without help—" Hermione began, but her words were cut off as another branch lashed down toward them, its twigs curled like a fist.

Callie ducked instinctively, her heart hammering in her chest. Every attempt to get closer to the tree's roots was met with a violent, thrashing branch, barring their way like an enraged guardian.

"If that dog can get in, we can," Harry panted, darting back and forth, searching for an opening. The Whomping Willow swung mercilessly, and he was forced back again and again, unable to close the distance.

"Oh, help, help," Hermione whispered, wringing her hands as she danced nervously in place. "Please..."

To Callie's astonishment, Crookshanks suddenly darted forward. The orange cat moved with uncanny precision, slipping between the flailing branches as though he had rehearsed it a hundred times. He stopped at the base of the tree and placed his paws on a knot in the bark.

Instantly, the tree froze. Its branches stilled mid-swing, and the air was filled with an eerie silence. Not a single leaf rustled.

"Crookshanks?" Hermione whispered, her voice trembling. She clutched Harry's arm so hard that her knuckles turned white. "How did he know—?"

"He's friends with that dog," Harry said grimly, his jaw tight. "I've seen them together. Come on—and keep your wand out."

Callie hesitated, staring at the still tree. Her pulse roared in her ears. Crookshanks had just undone the tree's defences with ease, proving he wasn't just an ordinary cat. The thought chilled her, but there was no time to dwell on it. At least they had a way in.

The three of them rushed forward, covering the short distance to the trunk in seconds. The dark gap in the roots loomed ahead, ominous and foreboding. Before they could reach it, Crookshanks disappeared into the hole with a flick of his bushy tail.

Harry dropped to his hands and knees, glancing back at Callie and Hermione. "Come on," he urged, and then he crawled headfirst into the gap. Callie's breath caught as he vanished from view.

She crouched beside Hermione, exchanging a look of uncertainty. Hermione's face was pale, her wand shaking in her hand. Together, they crawled into the earthy tunnel, following Harry into the unknown.

The air grew colder as Callie slid down the slope, the light from Harry's wand illuminating the tight, low passage ahead. Her heart pounded, her mind racing with fears she couldn't yet name. Crookshanks' eyes glinted ahead, eerie in the faint glow. Moments later, Hermione landed beside her with a soft grunt, and the three pressed on, the tunnel pulling them deeper into the darkness.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione whispered in a terrified voice.

"This way," Callie treaded forward with the help of Crookshanks' bushy tail up ahead.

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asked breathlessly from behind.

"I don't know... it's marked on the Marauder's Map but Fred and George said no one's ever got into it," Harry explained, and Calista had to pretend as though she wasn't paying attention. "It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it ends up in Hogsmeade..."

They moved as fast as they could, bent almost double; ahead of them, Crookshanks's tail bobbed in and out of view. The passage went on and on, until they finally saw a patch of dim light through a small opening.

Callie, without thinking, started forward, before Hermione pulled her back. She gave her a stern look before raising her wand, and Harry followed suite.

Laying beyond them was a room, very disordered and dusty. The wallpaper hung in curling strips, the floor was blotched with dark, ominous stains, and every piece of furniture looked like it had been in a brawl—and lost. The windows were boarded up, adding to the suffocating atmosphere.

Callie pulled herself out of the tunnel after Harry and Hermione, her hands brushing off the dirt that clung to her palms. Her heart raced as she took in the eerie silence, broken only by the faint creak of old wood settling. It was hard to tell if it was the house itself or the echoes of their own intrusion.

Harry glanced at Hermione, whose wide eyes were darting around the room, her face pale. Despite her fear, she nodded at him, urging him forward. Callie noticed Hermione's trembling hands gripping her wand. She tightened her own grip on hers, forcing her breathing to steady.

Callie's gaze landed on the wreckage of a wooden chair, its surface splintered and chunks missing as if bitten into by some massive creature. A shiver coursed through her.

"Ghosts didn't do that," Harry muttered, staring at the ruined furniture as well.

Before Callie could respond, a sharp creak overhead froze them in place. Her eyes shot to the ceiling, and she saw Hermione clutch Harry's arm so tightly his fingers looked bloodless.

"I think we're in the Shrieking Shack," Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible.

Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione. She nodded and loosened her grip on him. Callie swallowed hard, her fingers clenching around her wand as though it might somehow make her invisible.

They crept toward the door leading to the hallway, their footsteps muffled by the thick dust coating everything but the floorboards. A shiny, wide streak led up the staircase—a disturbing trail of something being dragged. Callie's chest tightened as she forced herself to follow Harry and Hermione, the wooden stairs groaning under their weight.

The air grew heavier as they reached the landing. All around them, the house seemed to breathe, its creaks and groans growing louder.

"Nox," they whispered in unison. The soft glow from their wands faded, but they could still make out the single door that was open.

As they crept towards it, they heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. They each exchanged a last look, a last nod.

Going first, wand held tightly before him, Harry kicked the door wide open.

On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings, lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of them. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron.

They each dashed across the room to him.

"Ron—are you OK?"

"You look awful."

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, it's a trap–"

"What–"

"He's the dog... he's an Animagus..."

Ron was staring over Harry's shoulder. They wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them.

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black.

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at them.

Harry's and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Callie's remained discreetly within her hand, before she carefully slid it back into her boot. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," Sirius Black rasped, his voice hoarse and raw. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful... it will make everything much easier."

Callie stepped forward, her wand trembling in her hand. "You said you wouldn't hurt them," she said, her voice low but steady.

Sirius turned to her, his expression unreadable. There was something in his gaze—sharp, almost searching—that made Callie's stomach twist. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks of confusion and alarm.

"Get away from him, Callie!" Hermione shouted.

"Callie," Harry said, his voice sharp with suspicion. "What's going on?"

"Has Black hexed you?" Ron growled, trying to push himself upright despite his injured leg. "Hold on, Callie—" But the effort left him pale and swaying, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

Sirius shot him a quick glance. "Lie down," he said quietly, a surprising calm in his voice. "You'll damage that leg even more."

Ron ignored him, his eyes fixed on Callie. "Calista, whatever's happening, you can't trust him. He's going to kill you, and he's going to kill Harry!"

"There'll only be one murder here tonight," Sirius interrupted, his grin broadening into something feral and dangerous.

"Why's that?" Harry spat, his anger boiling over as he struggled against Ron and Hermione's attempts to hold him back. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew... What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered, clutching at his arm, her face stricken. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, his voice breaking with fury. With a violent wrench, he broke free of Hermione and Ron's restraint and lunged at Sirius, his hands outstretched—

No wand, only fury propelling him, Harry lunged at Sirius. One of his hands locked around Sirius's frail wrist, forcing the wand away, while the knuckles of his other hand collided with the side of Sirius's head. They crashed backward into the wall, the impact shaking the entire room.

"Harry, stop!" Callie cried, her voice cutting through the chaos. But it was no use; Harry was consumed by rage. He clung to Sirius's wasted arm, twisting it madly as his other hand struck again and again, fists pounding wherever they could land.

Then Sirius's free hand found Harry's throat.

"No," Sirius hissed, his voice cold and unyielding. "I've waited too long—"

His fingers tightened. Harry choked, gasping as his glasses slipped askew. His vision blurred, but he could see the shadow of Sirius's face above him, twisted with grim determination.

Sirius had gone too far. Callie felt her heart slam against her ribs. "No!" she shouted. She, Hermione, and Ron rushed forward without hesitation. Hermione kicked Sirius hard in the side, making him grunt, while Ron hurled himself at Sirius's wand hand, struggling to wrench it free. Callie grabbed Harry's shoulders, trying to drag him away from Sirius's crushing grip.

"Harry, stop it!" she pleaded, her fingers slipping against his shirt. "You're going to—"

But Harry fought against her grasp, his fury undimmed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his wand roll across the floor. Callie was thrown back as Harry dove towards his wand.

Before he could reach it, claws sank into his arm. Crookshanks had joined the fray, his front paws gripping Harry's sleeve with a feral hiss. Harry snarled and shook him off, the cat skidding across the dusty floor, but Crookshanks wasted no time. With a flash of ginger fur, he darted toward Harry's wand.

"NO, YOU DON'T!" roared Harry, his fury unrelenting. He aimed a kick at Crookshanks, who leapt aside with a spit of indignation. Harry lunged for his wand, fingers closing around it as he turned sharply, wand raised and ready.

"Get out of the way!" he shouted at Ron and Hermione.

They didn't need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for air and dabbing at her bleeding lip, scrambled aside, scooping up both hers and Ron's wands. Ron dragged himself toward the nearest four-poster bed, collapsing onto it with a groan. His face was ashen, his hands clutching at his broken leg, beads of sweat shining on his brow.

Sirius Black lay crumpled at the base of the wall, his chest heaving as his sunken eyes watched Harry approach. Harry stopped directly in front of Black, wand aimed straight at his chest. His green eyes blazed with raw emotion.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" Black whispered hoarsely.

Harry's grip on his wand tightened. "You killed my parents," he said, voice trembling with anger but his aim unyielding.

Black didn't flinch. "I don't deny it," he replied, his tone low and steady. "But if you knew the whole story—"

"The whole story?" Harry spat, disbelief and fury mixing in his voice. "You sold them to Voldemort! That's all I need to know!"

Callie stepped forward, her heart pounding. "Harry," she said quickly, her voice cutting through the tension, "you don't know the whole story—"

Harry whipped around to face her, betrayal flashing in his eyes. "What are you talking about, Callie? Why are you defending him? Are you—are you with him?"

"No! It's not like that," she said, her voice faltering under the weight of his accusation. "You just—you don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly," Harry shot back. "He's a murderer. He's the murderer."

"You don't know everything!" Callie insisted, stepping closer, her hands shaking at her sides. "If you just—"

"I don't want to hear it!" Harry roared, his focus snapping back to Black.

Black seized the moment, his voice rising above the chaos. "Harry, listen to me! You'll regret it if you don't. I swear, it's not what you think."

But Harry wouldn't hear it. His gaze bore into Black, a maelstrom of grief and rage. "You never heard her, did you? My mum, begging Voldemort to spare me! She died because of you!"

Before Harry could utter another word, a flash of orange darted past him. Crookshanks sprang onto Black's chest and settled there, his claws digging into the man's robes. Black let out a soft grunt and tried to push the cat off, but Crookshanks refused to budge, his great yellow eyes glaring at Harry. Hermione gave a dry sob, but Harry was only focused on the man he thought got his family killed.

But then—

The muffled sound of footsteps echoed from below, growing louder. Someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione's shrill scream shattered the tension. "WE'RE UP HERE–SIRIUS BLACK–QUICK!"

Callie's stomach dropped. "Hermione, no!" she cried, panic rising in her chest.

Sirius stiffened beneath Crookshanks, his movement so abrupt it nearly dislodged the cat. Harry's grip tightened on his wand, his knuckles white, and Callie could practically see the storm of emotions brewing in his eyes. She stepped forward instinctively, reaching out as if she could stop what was coming.

"Harry, wait!" she pleaded, her voice breaking.

But Harry didn't move. His wand stayed trained on Sirius, indecision carved into his face as the sound of heavy, pounding footsteps echoed up the staircase. Then the door burst open, a shower of red sparks illuminating the room, and Callie spun around just as her own father stepped inside.

His face was ashen, his eyes wide and wild as they swept over the scene: Ron, sprawled and groaning on the floor; Hermione, pale and shaking by the door; Harry, standing with his wand pointed unwaveringly at Sirius; Sirius himself, battered and bloodied, Crookshanks perched stubbornly on his chest. And his daughter, his oh so sweet and curious daughter, in the centre of it all.

"Expelliarmus!" Remus bellowed.

The force of the spell sent Harry's wand flying from his hand, and Callie barely had time to react before the others joined it in the air. Remus caught all three effortlessly, his movements precise, yet his expression betrayed the chaos swirling within him.

Callie's heart raced as she stared at her father, the man who always tried to stay calm, now looking as though he'd been struck by a lightning bolt. His gaze landed on Sirius, lingering there as if caught between relief and disbelief.

"Dad," Callie whispered, her voice trembling.

Remus didn't look at her—he couldn't, not yet. Instead, he stepped further into the room, his wand still raised as he took in the scene before him. Callie felt a cold pit forming in her stomach. She wanted to explain, to tell him everything, but the words caught in her throat.

Remus gave Harry a small, deliberate nod, silently motioning for him to step aside. When Harry reluctantly moved, still gripping his side in anger and confusion, Remus advanced on Sirius, his wand unwavering, his eyes fixed intensely on the man before him.

"Well, well, Sirius," Remus said evenly, his voice razor-sharp. "Looking rather ragged, aren't we? Finally, the flesh reflects the madness within."

Sirius let out a low, humourless laugh, his teeth bared in something that wasn't quite a smile. "And you'd know all about the madness within, wouldn't you, Remus?" he shot back hoarsely.

The air in the room crackled with tension as the two men stared each other down. Then, in an instant, Remus lowered his wand. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, seized Sirius by the arm, and pulled him into an embrace. Sirius sagged against him for a moment, his face a mix of weariness and relief.

"We found him," Sirius said, his voice hoarse but resolute. He turned his head slightly, pointing at Callie. "Your daughter and I. Together."

"I know," Remus replied, his tone steady despite the storm in his eyes. "I understand."

Sirius straightened, his grip tightening on Remus' arm. "Let's kill him."

"I don't believe it!" Hermione's voice shattered the quiet, a mix of horror and disbelief.

Remus released Sirius, turning to face her. She had pulled herself upright, trembling with fury, her wand now clutched tightly in her hand.

"You—you—" she stammered, pointing at him as though her words refused to form.

"Hermione—" Remus began.

"—you and him—" she shrieked, eyes darting between Sirius and Remus, wide with betrayal.

"Hermione, calm down—" Callie tried from her corner of the room, her voice shaking as she stepped toward her friend.

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione screamed. "I've been covering up for both of you—"

"Hermione, listen to me, please!" Callie shouted over her. "I can explain—"

But Harry's voice cut through, trembling with anger. "I trusted you," he spat at Callie, his green eyes blazing as they flicked between her and Remus. "And all this time, you've been helping him!"

"No, Harry, you're wrong," Remus interjected, his voice firm but pleading. "I haven't been Sirius's friend for twelve years, but I am now. Please—let me explain—"

"NO!" Hermione shrieked, her voice trembling. "Harry, don't trust him! He's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too—he's been manipulating Callie—he's a werewolf!"

The words hung in the air like a clap of thunder, silencing everyone in the room. All eyes turned to Remus, who stood still as stone, remarkably calm but visibly pale.

"And Callie isn't his niece," Hermione pressed on, her voice cracking under the weight of the revelation. "She's his daughter. And Sirius—Sirius is her uncle. Her real uncle."

The room seemed to freeze, the words settling heavily on everyone. Harry and Ron stared at Callie, their faces a mixture of shock and disbelief, before their gazes shifted to Remus and Sirius. The three of them—Remus, Callie, and Sirius—stood together now, a fractured family, exposed under the weight of the truth.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," Remus said, his voice steady but tinged with resignation. "Only three out of six, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle, nor have I been manipulating Calista, and I certainly don't want Harry dead..." His expression wavered slightly, as though some deeply buried guilt surfaced for a moment. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf." His eyes softened, guilt and love mingling as they landed on Callie. He extended a hand toward her. "Or that Calista is my daughter."

Callie hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stepped forward and clasped her father's hand.

Ron made a valiant effort to sit up, but the motion sent a fresh wave of pain through him, and he fell back with a sharp whimper. His face twisted with fear and anger as he glared at Lupin. "Get away from me, werewolf!"

Remus stopped abruptly, his expression tightening. For a moment, Callie thought he might say something to Ron, but instead, he turned to Hermione, his voice calm but strained. "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered, her voice faint. "Callie told me most of the truth after Christmas, but she... left out the werewolf part. I figured it out earlier, though. When Snape set the essay."

"He'll be delighted," Remus said dryly. "He set that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant. Did you check the lunar chart and realize I was always ill at the full moon? Or that Calista's boggart was the full moon?"

"Both," Hermione said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

Remus forced a brittle laugh. "You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not," Hermione whispered, her voice trembling. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said Remus, his tone calm despite the accusation. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron gasped, still pale and clutching his leg. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," Remus replied. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy—"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry roared, his anger boiling over. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" He jabbed a finger at Sirius, who had crossed to the four-poster bed and sunk onto it, his face hidden in one trembling hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside him and curled into his lap, purring loudly. Ron edged further away, dragging his injured leg as far as he could manage.

"I have not been helping Sirius," Remus said firmly, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. His eyes flicked toward Harry, steady and pleading. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look—"

Callie watched as her father separated the confiscated wands, his hands steady despite the tension in the room. He tossed them back, one by one: Harry's, Hermione's, and Ron's.

"There," Remus said, sticking his own wand into his belt as a sign of trust. "You're armed; we're not. Now, will you listen?"

Callie's stomach twisted as Harry glared at her father, then shot an equally furious look at her. "If you haven't been helping him," Harry said, his voice tight with anger, "then how did you know he was here?"

Callie opened her mouth to explain, but Remus beat her to it. "The map," he said quickly. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office, examining it—"

Harry's suspicion deepened. "You know how to work it?"

"Of course I know how to work it," Remus replied. "I helped write it. I'm Moony—that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

Harry's eyes narrowed, his disbelief clear. "You wrote—?"

"Yes," Remus said, his voice calm but laced with tension. "But the important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening. I had a suspicion that you, Ron, and Hermione might try sneaking out of the castle to visit Hagrid before Buckbeak's execution. And I was right, wasn't I?" He paused, glancing briefly at Callie before continuing. "I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid and started back toward the castle. But this time, you were accompanied by someone else."

Callie shifted uneasily, glancing at Harry's confused expression. She knew what her father was getting at, and the weight of the truth pressed heavily on her.

"What?" Harry said, his voice sharp. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Remus, pacing now, his tone steady but insistent. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" Harry snapped.

"And then I saw another dot," Remus continued, ignoring the protest. "Moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black. I saw him collide with you, and I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow—"

"One of us!" Ron interrupted angrily.

"No, Ron," Remus said. "Two of you."

Callie's eyes flickered toward Ron, whose face twisted in confusion and indignation. Her father had stopped pacing now, his gaze focused and unwavering.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" Remus asked, his tone casual but his eyes gleaming with purpose.

"What?" Ron said, clutching Scabbers protectively. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," Remus said quietly. "Could I see him, please?"

The room went still, tension crackling like static electricity. Callie's breath caught as Ron hesitated, his hand slowly dipping into his robes. He pulled out Scabbers, who immediately began thrashing, his small body writhing desperately. Ron grabbed the rat's long, bald tail to keep him from escaping.

Crookshanks, perched on Sirius' lap, stood up and hissed softly, his yellow eyes locked on the rat.

Remus stepped closer, his expression taut with anticipation. He looked down at Scabbers, his chest rising and falling sharply as though he were holding his breath. Callie watched her father's face, the mix of sorrow, anger, and certainty etched into his features, and felt her own heart begin to race. She glanced at Harry, who was frowning, his wand still held tightly in his hand, and at Hermione, who looked as though she might cry.

Callie took a step forward, her voice trembling as she broke the silence. "Harry... Hermione... you need to listen. This isn't just about us sneaking out. There's more to Scabbers than you know."

Sirius seized the moment, his voice low and taut. "That's not a rat."

"What d'you mean—of course he's a rat–" Ron spluttered, clutching Scabbers closer.

"No, he's not," Remus said quietly, his voice cutting through the tension. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus, by the name of Peter Pettigrew," Sirius added, drawing out the name like a curse.

Harry shook his head, his face twisting in disbelief. "Peter Pettigrew's dead! He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed accusingly at Sirius, his voice rising. "You killed him!"

"No, Harry, he didn't," Callie spoke. She hesitated, her heart pounding as her father shot her a warning glance, his brow furrowed. But she couldn't stay silent. Stepping forward, she stood between Harry and Remus, her small frame defiant. "You saw his name, Harry. On the map. With me. Pettigrew's not dead."

"What?" Harry's voice cracked, his disbelief turning to confusion.

"He's as good as dead," Sirius muttered darkly from behind them.

Crookshanks suddenly hissed, his ears flattening against his head as Scabbers began thrashing wildly in Ron's hands. The rat squealed, his beady eyes darting around the room as though searching for an escape.

Then, with a guttural growl, Sirius lunged forward, throwing Crookshanks aside. His weight crashed onto Ron's broken leg, drawing a scream of pain as Ron fell back against the bed.

"Sirius, NO!" Remus yelled, surging forward to drag Sirius away from Ron once more. "WAIT! You can't do it just like that—they need to understand. We've got to explain—please wait!"

"I did my waiting!" Sirius roared, his voice cracking with rage and desperation, his gaunt face twisted with years of pent-up fury. "Twelve years of it! In Azkaban!"

Callie stepped forward, her heart pounding as she placed herself between her uncle and Ron. "They have a right to know," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. "Just as I did. Please, Sirius."

Sirius' ragged breathing slowed, though his wild eyes never left Scabbers, squirming desperately in Ron's scratched and bleeding hands. His gaze shifted to Callie, softening slightly as he held her steady look. Slowly, he stopped struggling against Remus' grip, though his body still trembled with barely contained rage.

"All right, then," Sirius rasped, his voice hoarse and low. He gave a sharp nod at Callie before turning to Remus. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick." His hollow eyes snapped back to Scabbers, and his voice dropped to a growl. "I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for..."

"You're nutters, all three of you," Ron muttered shakily, glancing at Harry and Hermione for support. His hands trembled as he clutched Scabbers, the rat thrashing with renewed panic. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to push himself up, wobbling on his good leg, but before he could move far, Remus raised his wand again, this time pointing it directly at the frantic rat in Ron's grip.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," Remus said quietly, his voice laced with a calm authority that stilled the room. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, his voice breaking as he struggled to shove the frantic rat back into his front pocket. Scabbers fought with wild desperation, clawing and squealing, and Ron swayed, nearly overbalancing. Harry caught him and pushed him back onto the bed before turning sharply to Remus, his face pale and tense.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," Harry said, his voice rising with uncertainty. "A whole street full of them..."

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" Sirius spat savagely, his hollowed eyes never leaving the writhing rat in Ron's hands.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," Remus said evenly, nodding, his expression grave. "I believed it myself—until I saw the map that night. Because the Marauder's Map never lies... Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Harry and Ron exchanged wide-eyed glances, both looking as though they were grappling with the weight of disbelief. Callie felt the tension thickening in the room, the distrust, the fear. Her heart hammered as she stepped forward, keeping her voice steady but soft.

"Harry," she said gently, her gaze locking with his. She could see the flicker of confusion, of doubt, in his eyes. Slowly, his defensive stance seemed to waver just slightly. "I found Sirius after that night. During the Quidditch game."

Regret flickered across her face as she turned briefly to Hermione, whose hurt expression twisted Callie's stomach with guilt. Another secret kept. Another truth withheld.

"He told me everything," Callie continued, her voice cracking slightly as she glanced back at Harry. "It's all true. He's been after Peter this whole time—not you." Then, she added, "Not me, and not my dad, either."

Her gaze shifted to Sirius, an apology burning in her eyes. Sorry for believing the lies Peter had spun, for doubting him, for not trusting the love he had for her, for her father, for their family. Sirius met her eyes, something raw and vulnerable glinting in his expression, though his hands still trembled with rage.

Hermione's brow furrowed as she glanced from Callie to Remus, her voice trembling but determined. "But... Scabbers can't be Pettigrew... it just can't be true, you know it can't, Callie..."

"Why can't it be true?" Remus asked calmly, his tone almost professorial, as though they were in  Defence class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.

"Because..." Hermione faltered, searching for logic amid the chaos. "Because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework—the Ministry keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things. And I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have only been seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list—"

Remus began to laugh—a low, dry chuckle.

"Right again, Hermione," he said, nodding appreciatively. "You're absolutely correct. The Ministry keeps a detailed register of Animagi. But there's one little flaw in your reasoning." His smile faded, and his voice took on a somber note. "The Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

Hermione's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Ron froze mid-breath, staring at Remus as if he'd just sprouted a second head. Harry's gaze darted between Black and Lupin, his grip tightening on his wand as the pieces began to slot uneasily into place.

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," Sirius growled, his voice low and dangerous, his hollowed eyes still fixed intently on Scabbers, who writhed and squealed in Ron's trembling hands.

"All right," Remus said, exhaling deeply. His glance flicked briefly to Callie, who gave him an encouraging nod, then back to Sirius. "But you'll need to help me, Sirius. I only know how it began..."

He then broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it, their nerves stretched taut as bowstrings. Then Remus strode towards it, his steps measured but purposeful, and looked out onto the landing.

"No one there..." he murmured, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"This place is haunted!" Ron blurted.

"It's not," Remus said calmly, though his gaze remained fixed on the door as though it might offer an explanation. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted. The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."

He ran a hand through his greying hair, pausing as though considering how best to continue. Then, with a sigh, he said, "That's where all of this starts—with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten... or if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

And so his tale began.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days, there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform. I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again."

He paused, his voice thick with emotion. "Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully-fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me."

Callie's stomach clenched as she listened. She'd heard bits and pieces of this story before, but the raw pain in her father's voice made it impossible not to feel his suffering anew. She folded her arms across her chest, clenching her fists tightly, as if by sheer will she could undo the past.

"But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic," Remus continued. "He said that, as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school." He sighed heavily, turning his tired eyes on Harry. "I told you months ago that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I had come to Hogwarts. This house—" he gestured at the room with a weary wave of his hand, "—the tunnel that leads to it—they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

Remus' voice grew quieter as he began to recount the details of his first transformations in the Shrieking Shack. He described the excruciating pain, the isolation, and the horrifying realization that most of the scars on his body weren't from the bite but from wounds he'd inflicted on himself during his uncontrollable transformations.

Callie's chest tightened, tears welling in her eyes despite her efforts to keep them at bay. She had known her father's condition brought pain, but she hadn't understood the extent of it until now. The thought of him— a young boy— enduring that kind of agony alone made her want to scream.

But then Remus' voice softened as he spoke of his friends. He went on to explain how they had become Animagi, how they'd risked everything to stay by his side during his transformations, and how those years had been the closest he'd ever felt to living a normal life.

Callie glanced at Sirius, who was listening in stony silence, his gaze fixed on her father. Then she looked at Harry and Hermione, whose faces were a mix of shock and uncertainty. Ron, meanwhile, sat frozen, clutching Scabbers as though he might bolt at any moment.

Her father's words were meant for all of them, but they struck Callie the hardest. She knew he was a good man— a kind, selfless father— but hearing this story made her realize just how much he had endured, how much he had sacrificed, and how much he had carried alone. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. And yet, he stood there now, still trying to shield her, to shield them all, from the worst of it.

Her heart ached with the weight of it all, but she forced herself to stay strong. She owed him that much.

Hermione jumped in. "That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip and bitten someone?"

Remus's shoulders slumped under the weight of her words. "A thought that haunts me to this day," he admitted heavily. "And there were close calls—too many. At the time, we laughed about them afterward, as if we were invincible. We were young, reckless, and blinded by our own cleverness."

He paused, his expression tightening with regret. "I did feel guilty, of course, for betraying Dumbledore's trust. He had done something no other Headmaster would have dared: he let a werewolf into Hogwarts. He created a safe space for me, gave me a chance at a normal life when no one else would. And I broke the rules he put in place to protect everyone. He had no idea I'd led my friends into becoming unregistered Animagi. I kept telling myself that as long as no one got hurt, the ends justified the means. I buried my guilt in the excitement of planning our next adventure."

Remus' voice faltered, then grew sharper, laced with self-loathing. "But I haven't changed, not really. All year, I've been wrestling with whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius is an Animagus. I knew it would mean confessing my past transgressions, admitting I betrayed his trust, and dragging my friends into it as well. And I couldn't do it. I convinced myself that Sirius had learned Dark Arts from Voldemort, that his Animagus form had nothing to do with his supposed ability to get into the castle. I wanted to believe that lie because the truth was too shameful to face."

He looked at the floor, his voice barely above a whisper. "In a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" Sirius interrupted harshly, his grey eyes snapping to Remus for the first time since Scabbers had wriggled free of his focus. "What does Snape have to do with this?"

"He's here, Sirius," Remus replied heavily. "He's been teaching here for years."

He turned his gaze to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as if to explain further. "Professor Snape was at school with us, in our year. He fought tooth and nail against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, and he's been telling Dumbledore all year that I can't be trusted. And he has... reasons."

"What reasons?" Harry demanded, his brow furrowing.

Remus sighed deeply. "Sirius played a prank on Snape once—one that could've killed him. And I was part of it, though I didn't know at the time."

"It wasn't a prank," Sirius snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. "It served him right. Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to, hoping he could get us expelled!"

Remus shook his head. "Severus was curious, yes. He saw Madam Pomfrey walking me to the Whomping Willow one night, and he became determined to figure out where I was going. Sirius thought it would be—" he hesitated, grimacing, "—amusing to tell Snape how to get past the Willow. All he needed to do was prod the knot at the base with a stick."

He closed his eyes briefly, as if willing the memory away. "Snape tried it. If he'd made it to this house, he would've met a fully transformed werewolf. But James—your father—realized what Sirius had done and went after Snape. He dragged him back just in time, at great risk to his own life. Snape saw me, though, just at the mouth of the tunnel. Dumbledore swore him to secrecy, but from that moment on, he knew what I was."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," Harry said slowly, piecing it together. "Because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," drawled a cold, cutting voice from the shadows behind them.

Everyone froze.

Hermione gasped as Snape stepped into view, his wand raised and pointed directly at Sirius. With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed him effortlessly. Sirius's wand soared through the air, clattering to the floor several feet away.

"Ah!" Snape sighed as he eyed Sirius. "Vengeance is sweet. How I hoped I'd be the one to catch you."

The children stood rooted to the spot, their faces pale. Remus instinctively pulled Callie close, his arms wrapping protectively around her. She clung to his frayed sweater, her heart pounding in her chest as the tension in the room reached a boiling point.

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face radiated suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his dark eyes glittering maliciously. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did—lucky for me, that is. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus—" Remus began, stepping forward slightly, but Snape cut him off sharply.

Remus tensed, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught Callie slowly moving her hand toward her boot. His stomach twisted in alarm as he noticed her retrieving her wand. He shifted subtly to block her movements from Snape's line of sight, though Snape's focus was firmly fixed on Sirius.

"I've told the Headmaster again and again that you've been helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin," Snape sneered. "And now, here's the proof. Not even I thought you would have the audacity to use this decrepit hovel as your hideout."

"Brilliant deduction, Snape," Sirius interjected, his voice low and mocking as he took a step forward. "Once again, you've put that keen and penetrating mind of yours to work and, as usual, landed on the wrong conclusion. Now, if you'll excuse us, Remus and I have some unfinished business."

Snape moved like lightning, pressing his wand to Sirius's throat before he could take another step. "Give me a reason," Snape hissed, his voice trembling with cold fury. "I beg you."

"Severus, don't be a fool," Remus said firmly, his tone edged with warning.

"He can't help it—it's second nature by now," Sirius quipped, a dangerous grin spreading across his face despite the wand aimed at him.

"Sirius, be quiet!" Remus snapped.

"Oh, quiet yourself, Remus," Sirius shot back.

"Oh, listen to the pair of you," Snape cut in, his voice dripping with scorn. "Quarrelling like an old married couple."

Sirius smirked. "Why don't you run along and play with your chemistry set?"

Snape's expression darkened further, and his voice dropped to a dangerous murmur. "The creature and the criminal. Quite the reunion. But it feels like someone's missing, doesn't it? Tell me, Sirius, where's your baby sister? Couldn't make it to the wedding?"

The room went deathly silent. Sirius's grin faltered, replaced by a murderous glare. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he lunged forward, but Snape pressed his wand harder against his neck, stopping him in his tracks.

Remus stiffened at the mention of Celine, his composure visibly cracking. His hand clenched into a fist, his nails digging into his palms.

Callie, who had frozen mid-motion, abandoned her wand and instead reached out to clutch her father's hand. The warmth of her small fingers was grounding, pulling Remus back from the brink. He glanced down at her, his gaze softening, and tightened his grip slightly, a silent agreement to stay in control.

Snape's lips curled into a cruel smile, as though sensing the effect his words had. "Touching," he drawled, his voice dripping with venom. "I could do it, you know." He tilted his wand slightly, its tip pressing further into Sirius's throat. "But why deny the Dementors? They're so longing to see you."

Sirius's reaction was instantaneous. His jaw clenched, his breathing shallow and rapid, and his eyes narrowed into slits of defiance. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a flicker of something else—a shadow of dread that passed so quickly it might have been imagined. But Snape saw it, and his smile widened.

"Do I detect a flicker of fear? Oh, yes." Snape's voice was a cruel purr. "A Dementor's kiss. One can only imagine what that must be like to endure. It's said to be nearly unbearable to witness, but I'll do my best."

"Severus, please!" Remus interjected, his voice steady but urgent. He gripped Callie's shoulder as she tensed, her fingers curling around her wand, now almost fully drawn.

Snape's eyes hardened, and with a sharp gesture, he motioned toward the door. "After you," he snarled.

Callie's wand was poised to fire, her grip tight as she prepared to act. But before she could move, Harry crept forward, his face set with determination. His hand, trembling but steady enough, raised his wand.

His aim was at Sirius, but at the last second, Harry shifted it.

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell shot out like a thunderclap. Snape twisted instinctively to block it, but the force of the spell blasted him off his feet. He flew through the air with a wild, startled expression before slamming into the wall. The impact sent him crashing onto the decrepit bed, which groaned under his weight before collapsing completely, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

Callie, Ron, and Hermione stared in open-mouthed shock.

"Harry, what did you just do?" Ron spluttered, his voice rising with disbelief.

"You attacked a teacher!" Hermione shrieked, her tone a mix of outrage and terror.

"You shouldn't have done that," Sirius said sharply, his gaze snapping to Harry. His expression softened almost immediately, though, and he added in a low voice, "You should have left him to me..."

Remus, ignoring the chaos for a moment, pulled Callie close to him, his arms encircling her protectively. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice hushed but laced with concern.

"I'm fine," Callie replied, breathless but steady. Her wide eyes scanned him. "Are you okay?"

Remus nodded, placing a kiss on the top of her head. A small, rare smile tugged at the corner of Sirius's lips as he watched them.

He turned to Harry to add, "Thank you, Harry."

"I'm still not saying I believe you," Harry retorted sharply, his wand still in hand, his posture tense.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," Sirius said, his voice rough yet resolute. His sharp eyes flicked to Ron. "You, boy—give me Peter. Now."

Ron staggered back a step, clutching Scabbers closer to his chest as though shielding him from a predator.

"Come off it," he said weakly, his voice high and panicked. "Are you trying to say you broke out of Azkaban just to get your hands on Scabbers? I mean..." He glanced desperately at Harry and Hermione, his face pale. "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat—there are millions of rats—how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," Remus said, turning to Sirius with a frown of genuine curiosity. "How did you find out where he was?"

Sirius's claw-like hand disappeared into his tattered robes immediately, rummaging for a moment before withdrawing a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it against his leg, his hands trembling slightly, and then held it out for them all to see.

Everyone leaned forward. The paper was worn and stained, but its contents were unmistakable: it was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer. The image of the Weasley family waved cheerfully up at them, but Sirius tapped the tiny figure perched on Ron's shoulder.

"How did you get this?" Remus asked, his voice low and disbelieving.

"Fudge," Sirius spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page... on this boy's shoulder." He jabbed a finger toward Ron, his gaunt face twisted with fury. "I knew him at once... how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts... to where Harry was..."

"My God," Remus whispered, staring between the photo and the trembling rat in Ron's hands. "His front paw..."

"What about it?" Ron shot back defensively, pulling Scabbers closer to his chest as though shielding him from their accusations.

"He's got a toe missing," Sirius said through gritted teeth.

Callie's breath caught. Her mind raced as the pieces began to fall into place. She tightened her grip on her father's arm, feeling the tension in him too.

"Of course," Remus murmured, his tone almost awed. "So simple... so brilliant... He cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," Sirius growled, his expression darkening. "When I cornered him, he screamed for everyone to hear that I had betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself—and sped down into the sewer with the other rats."

Callie shuddered at the image Sirius painted, bile rising in her throat. She glanced at her father, whose face was pale, his eyes clouded with anger and sadness. She wanted to say something, to ask him if it was really true, but the words caught in her throat.

"Didn't you ever hear, Ron?" Remus asked softly, his gaze fixed on Scabbers. "The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger."

Ron's face reddened, his grip on the rat tightening. "Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right—"

"Twelve years, in fact," Remus interrupted, his voice tinged with an almost eerie calm. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We—we've been taking good care of him!" Ron stammered, his voice rising.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" Remus said, his tone sharper now. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the rat, who was now thrashing desperately, emitting pitiful squeaks. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again..."

Callie's eyes widened as the implications hit her. She could almost feel Scabbers' panic—it was like watching a cornered animal, one that knew its time was up.

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" Ron shouted, pointing at Crookshanks, who was purring smugly on the bed.

"This cat isn't mad," Sirius rasped. He reached out with a skeletal hand and stroked Crookshanks' head with a gentleness that seemed almost out of place. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was straight away. And when he met me, he knew I wasn't a dog. It was a while before he trusted me. Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me..."

"What do you mean?" Hermione breathed.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't... so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me..." Sirius glanced at Harry and Hermione. "As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table. But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it... this cat—Crookshanks, did you call him?—told me Peter had left blood on the sheets... I suppose he bit himself... well, faking his own death had worked once..."

"And why did he fake his death?" Harry's voice cracked with fury, his face flushed. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No," Remus said, his tone firm but pleading. "Harry—"

"And now you've come to finish him off!" Harry shouted, his wand still raised and trembling in his hand.

"Yes, I have," Sirius said, his voice cold, his gaze fixed on Scabbers like a predator ready to pounce.

Callie stiffened at Sirius's tone, her stomach twisting. She could feel the weight of his rage, raw and unfiltered, but there was something deeper beneath it—something fragile, something broken.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted, his voice rising, his wand now shaking even more.

"Harry," Remus said quickly, stepping toward him. "Don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down—but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father— Sirius tracked Peter down—"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry bellowed, cutting him off. His hand was trembling so much now that Callie feared he might accidentally curse someone. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP, HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

Callie's breath hitched as she looked at Sirius. His face, already gaunt and haunted, seemed to crumble further under Harry's accusation. His sunken eyes glistened, too bright, too full of emotion.

"H-Harry..." Sirius rasped, his voice barely audible. He swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I... I as good as killed them."

Callie's chest tightened at his words, the sheer agony in them slicing through her like a blade.

"I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment," Sirius continued, his voice cracking. "Persuaded them to use him as Secret Keeper instead of me... I'm to blame, I know it... The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies—I realized what Peter must have done. What I'd done."

His voice broke entirely, and he turned away, his shoulders shaking with the weight of his guilt.

"Enough of this," Remus said suddenly, his voice sharper and steadier than Callie had ever heard it. It was the voice of a man who had finally reached the end of his patience. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened."

Callie glanced up at him, her pulse quickening. She had a feeling she knew what was coming.

"Ron, give me that rat."

Ron held Scabbers closer, his expression panicked. "What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" he asked, his voice high and tight.

"Force him to show himself," Remus said firmly. His eyes, usually so warm and kind, were cold now, glinting with determination. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron hesitated, then finally held out Scabbers, who began to squeal incessantly, writhing in panic. His small, black eyes bulged as Remus took hold of him.

"Ready, Sirius?" Remus asked, his voice steady.

Sirius, clutching Snape's wand, moved closer. His hollow, haunted eyes now burned with a fierce intensity. "Together," he said hoarsely.

Remus nodded, tightening his grip on the struggling rat. "On the count of three. One—two—THREE!"

Two beams of blue-white light erupted from their wands. For a moment, Scabbers hung frozen in mid-air, twisting wildly as though caught in an invisible net. Ron shouted in alarm as the rat fell to the floor with a dull thud.

Then there was a blinding flash.

It was as if something unnatural had been fast-forwarded: limbs sprouting, a head shooting upwards. In seconds, where the rat had been, there now stood a man. Crookshanks hissed and spat, his fur bristling, as the man stumbled backward.

He was pitiful—short and hunched, with thin, colourless hair and a pale, grubby complexion. His small, watery eyes darted around the room, filled with panic. Despite the transformation, he still looked more rat than man.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione gaped in shock. Callie's heart raced as she clung to her father's side, unable to tear her gaze away from the wretched figure.

Sirius and Remus hauled Peter to his feet, their wands fixed on him. With a snort, Pettigrew rubbed his face and looked at them both, his missing index finger starkly visible.

"Remus? Is—is this Sirius?" Pettigrew stammered, attempting a disarming smile. "My old friends!"

He threw his arms in the air as if in celebration, but the moment he tried to bolt, Sirius and Remus shoved him back with force. Pettigrew stumbled, his nose twitching as his frantic eyes darted around the room. His gaze landed on the children.

"Ron..." His voice became pleading, pitiful. "Haven't I been a good friend? A good pet? You won't let them kill me, will you, Ron? You're on my side, aren't you?"

Ron stared at him, horror and disgust etched across his pale face.

"I let you sleep in my bed!" he shouted at him.

"Kind boy... kind master..." Pettigrew grovelled, crawling toward him. "You won't let them do it... I was your rat... a good pet..."

Sirius barked out a cold laugh. "If you made a better rat than human, that's hardly a compliment, Peter."

Ron, his face twisting in revulsion, yanked his injured leg out of Pettigrew's reach, wincing as he moved. Pettigrew turned desperately, falling to his knees before Hermione.

"Sweet girl... clever girl... you—you won't let them... Help me, please..."

Hermione recoiled, pulling her robes free from his clawing hands, pressing herself back against the wall. Her expression was one of utter horror.

Pettigrew's gaze shifted again, this time to Harry. His watery eyes filled with a mockery of sorrow as his lips quivered. "H-Harry... look at you. You're so much like your father... like James. We were the best of friends, he and I."

He then turned toward Calista, who was standing protectively beside Harry. "And you... little Lupin... your mother, Celene—she would've helped me. She—"

The words barely escaped his mouth before Sirius surged forward, grabbing Pettigrew by the front of his robes and yanking him upright. Fury radiated off him like heat.

"Don't you dare talk to them!" Sirius snarled. "Or about James and Celene!"

Peter scurried behind the old piano, his trembling form half-hidden by the dust-covered wood. Sirius and Remus flanked him on either side, their wands unwavering.

"You sold James and Lily to Voldemort, didn't you?!" Remus roared, his voice shaking with fury and grief.

"I didn't mean to!" Peter cried, his voice cracking. "The Dark Lord... you have no idea the weapons he possesses! Ask yourself, Sirius—what would you have done? What would you have done?"

"I would have died!" Sirius bellowed, his voice raw with rage. "I would have died rather than betray my friends!"

Pettigrew ducked lower, using the piano as a shield, before suddenly darting out, making another desperate attempt to escape. He nearly succeeded, but Harry stepped into the doorway, blocking his path. Pettigrew froze, then lunged toward Harry, clutching his shoulders.

"Harry, please! James wouldn't have wanted me killed! Your dad—your dad would have spared me!"

Harry stared at him, wide-eyed, frozen in place as Pettigrew's fingers dug into his shoulders. Before anyone else could move, Callie stepped forward, her jaw clenched. With a sharp motion, she slammed her heel into the back of Peter's legs. He let out a yelp, releasing Harry as he crumpled to the ground.

Sirius and Remus pounced immediately, grabbing Pettigrew and hauling him back to his feet. He squirmed and whimpered in their grasp, but their grips were ironclad.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, their wands raised, Sirius and Remus stared down at him with matching expressions of grim determination.

"You should have realized," Remus said, his voice low and steady, though his eyes burned with unspoken pain. "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."

Behind them, Hermione turned away, covering her face with her hands. She leaned into Callie's shoulder, trembling as Callie wrapped an arm around her, shutting her own eyes tightly to block out the scene before them.

"NO!" Harry yelled. He surged forward, planting himself in front of Pettigrew and facing the raised wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."

Sirius and Remus both froze, their expressions stunned.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents!" Sirius snarled, his voice shaking with anger. "This cringing bit of filth would've let you die too, without a second thought. You heard him! His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family!"

"I know," Harry said, panting. His green eyes darted between the two men. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors. He can go to Azkaban... just don't kill him."

"Harry!" Pettigrew gasped, scrambling to his knees and flinging his arms around Harry's legs. "You—you're so kind—thank you—this is more than I deserve—thank you—"

"Get off me!" Harry spat, kicking Pettigrew's hands away with disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because I don't think my dad would've wanted his best friends to be killers... not for you."

He turned to Callie, his eyes locking with hers. They were filled with apology, understanding, and determination. Callie blinked back tears, giving him a small, grateful nod. She reached up to brush a hand across her cheek, steadying herself.

The room fell silent except for Pettigrew's labored wheezing as he clutched his chest, his panic tangible. Sirius and Remus stared at each other, both caught in the gravity of the moment. Then, as though moving in unison, they slowly lowered their wands.

"You're the only one with the right to decide, Harry," Sirius said hoarsely, his jaw clenched. "But think... think about what he did..."

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated firmly. "If anyone deserves that place, it's him."

Pettigrew slumped forward, his breath hitching in relief.

"Very well," Remus said quietly. "Azkaban it is."

this chapter is LOOOONG but its mainly dialogue (lots of it), i didnt want to split it but i hope it was okay to get through! it also has the biggest combo of movie and book dialogue. the detail in the book was definitely worth keeping but i love the movie scene as well, you all know how iconic it is. hopefully callie fit into it well and it wasn't a chaotic crazy mess!

so next chapter is when... well, there's a lot of big stuff about to go down, iykyk. it's detrimental for the plot moving forward and all the relationships, including our father and daughter.

happy reading and as always... happy MMM!!