"Enough!" Professor McGonagall snapped, her wand pointed at the three bound figures in chairs. "Silencio!"
James and Sirius's furious roars cut off abruptly, reduced to futile muffled grunts. Peter, meanwhile, sat frozen, his eyes darting in terror.
McGonagall's chest heaved as she fought to quell the storm within her. Finally, her gaze settled on Moody, who stood weathered and stern.
"Alastor," she said, "tell me exactly how you found them."
Moody, standing in the center of the cabin, stomped his wooden leg against the floor, snow still clinging to his travel cloak. His magical blue eye, crafted by Grindelwald, gleamed in its socket, lending his already grim face a fiercer edge.
"Minerva," he said, his magical eye slowing its spin, "we were in northern Wiltshire, tracking a gang of Death Eaters who'd been raiding Muggle villages." He spat on the floor.
"By the time we got there," his voice rasped, heavy with post-battle exhaustion, "the fight had already started. Near the ruins of a burned-out barn, we heard the clash. We rushed over and saw these three."
Moody's brow furrowed as he recalled the details. "They were going at it with about five or six Death Eaters. Potter and Black were at the front, fighting hard." He shifted his wooden leg and continued, "We joined the fray. In the chaos, Potter got hit with a Full Body-Bind Curse, tied up tight. Black took a Stunning Spell trying to save him."
"As for him," Moody's alchemical eye whirred wildly in its socket, landing with disgust on Peter, "this coward was standing just steps from the nearest Death Eater. Didn't cast a single spell, didn't run—just stood there trembling like a frightened rat."
At Moody's words, Peter shook his head, trembling even harder, though the cabin's roaring fireplace kept the room warm as spring.
Snape noticed Peter's small eyes darting toward the sealed cabin door, a low whimper escaping his throat, pitiable and weak.
"The fight was fierce," Moody's voice broke the cabin's oppressive silence. "Those bastards were cunning, but we caught them off guard. We took down the Death Eaters, and when they saw the tide turning, they Disapparated."
"Only then did Wormtail slink out, shaking, barely able to hold his wand."
"Then things got strange." Moody's expression darkened as he pulled a wand from his robes. "This one suddenly turned and bolted, running right past the bound Potter."
"Potter, though tied up, saw Peter coming and—Merlin knows how—found the strength to headbutt him square in the face. Wormtail went down hard, eating dirt, and his wand flew out of his hand. This one." Moody waved the wand, holding it high. Peter's eyes followed it, filled with desperate longing.
"Then," Moody pocketed the wand, "our people moved in, cut Potter's ropes. But the moment he was free, his eyes blazed red. He didn't go for his wand or to help his friend. No, he charged at Wormtail like a crazed stag, fists flying, ready to strangle him on the spot."
"We tied Potter up again," Moody shook his head, "and only then did we lift the Stunning Spell on Black. The moment he woke, he ignored us, roaring and lunging at Wormtail, who was still sprawled on the ground."
"It took everything we had to pull them apart," Moody said, spreading his hands. "We didn't know what was going on between them. For safety—and to stop them from killing each other—we silenced them with magic. Oh, and cleaned up Wormtail's trousers while we were at it."
"After checking they had no tracking charms or anything that could give away our position," he concluded, "we brought them back here. That's the story."
When Moody finished, the only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and the heavy breathing of those present. All eyes turned to the three Marauders.
James and Sirius's faces were twisted with rage and suppressed fury, their glares fixed on Peter, silent hatred practically radiating from them.
Though Snape had his suspicions, questions lingered. He turned to McGonagall. "Professor, why not let them speak for themselves? Potter and Black's anger must have a source. Their accounts might fill in the gaps."
McGonagall's face was grave, but she nodded. "Finite Incantatem!" She waved her wand, lifting the spell.
The moment their voices were freed, all three erupted.
"He's a traitor!" Sirius bellowed first, his voice hoarse with rage. He strained against the ropes, the chair legs scraping the floor. "He joined the Death Eaters! That vile betrayer! Spineless coward! He got—"
"I don't—don't know what you're talking about!" Peter cut in, his voice shrill with fear, nearly piercing. "James, Sirius, you've lost it!" His breathing quickened, sweat beading on his pale face, his body shaking as if it might collapse. "Slander! Why are you doing this to me?" He babbled, looking to McGonagall for protection.
As Sirius and James seemed ready to explode again, McGonagall waved her wand. "Quiet!"
Their curses were choked off, but the hatred in their eyes didn't waver.
Seeing Peter's terrified, tear-streaked face, McGonagall hesitated. In everyone's memory, Peter had always been the timid, unremarkable, most vulnerable member of their group. She instinctively leaned toward believing he'd been coerced or wronged. Taking a deep breath, she addressed him.
"Peter, you first. Tell us what happened. Why are they treating you like this?"
Snape let out a soft, derisive snort but said nothing, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting for Wormtail's performance.
When McGonagall lifted the spell, Peter shuddered violently. Seizing the chance to defend himself, he nodded frantically, tears and snot streaming down his face. "Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick! Please, you can't believe them! They want to kill me—really kill me! They've gone mad. Just because I'm Muggle-born, they think I'm weak, easy to pick on. They wanted to hand me over to the Death Eaters, but even the Death Eaters wouldn't stoop to that…"
"For Merlin's sake, save me!" he wailed, his voice piercing. "We used to be such good friends… I never thought…"
James, his sunken eyes burning, looked skeletal as he stared at Peter.
Though silenced, his gaze was unyielding. Peter flinched under it, ducking his head as if trying to sink into the floor. His face glistened with sweat, his eyes flickering as he stammered on.
"I thought they were my friends… back in Godric's Hollow… they took me in… but then… they… they wanted to turn me over to the Death Eaters. Yes, that's it! They wanted to trade me to the Death Eaters for their own safety. I escaped… I barely escaped…" he sobbed.
Sirius's teeth ground audibly, his face contorted with rage.
"Enough," Snape cut in, exasperated, stepping forward to loom over the trembling man. "Wormtail, anything else to add about your 'innocence' and 'victimhood'?"
Peter looked up at Snape, grasping at another lifeline. "Severus, Severus," he pleaded, "they're both pure-bloods. You have to believe me—I'm like you, not pure-blood. They look down on people like us, bully us. Those pure-blood maniacs want us dead…"
But Snape's wand answered him.
Peter managed only a final, choked syllable before falling silent, his lips moving soundlessly, eyes wide with terror.
Snape didn't spare him another glance. He flicked his wand at James. "Your turn, Potter," he said. "We want the full, true story."
James gasped, swallowing hard to suppress the roiling anger and suffocating pain in his chest. He closed his eyes, then opened them, his voice hoarse as he began.
"After we left here…" each word seemed wrenched from his throat, "Sirius and I took him back to Godric's Hollow… to my home. My parents… they took us in…"
"We thought…" his voice dripped with bitterness, "it was safe there, at least. At first… it was almost calm…" He struggled to recall. "But not long after, the Death Eaters came."
"They invited our whole family to join them, but my parents refused."
"They came back twice more, each time more aggressive…" His body began to tremble uncontrollably, his voice dropping. "The third time, they came without warning…"
"They saw Peter… in the living room…" He paused, steadying his breathing. "They figured out his blood status, knew he was Muggle-born."
"They dragged him away, like a dog… We tried to stop them, but there were too many, wands pointed at us."
"The leader, that bastard, jabbed his wand in my face and said, 'Potter brat, think carefully. If you want this filthy Mudblood back in one piece, consider our generous offer.'"
The cabin fell silent. McGonagall's lips tightened in pain; even Moody's magical eye stilled, fixed on James.
"We kept trying…" James continued, lost in memory. "We tried everything to save him. We thought about pretending to join them, waiting for them to release Peter, then fleeing with him… far away."
"Or finding a chance to break him out… I even planned to infiltrate the Ministry…" He lifted his face, staring hollowly at Peter. "We never stopped thinking of ways to save him…"
"But…" His voice sharpened, like a wounded beast's cry. His body writhed, the ropes cutting into his flesh. "One day… Sirius and I… we went out… to gather information… When we came back…"
"What we saw…" James could barely breathe, "was ruins… half the house blown apart… gone…"
A guttural sound escaped his throat, and he couldn't go on, only managing a desperate growl.
After a long pause, he summoned his strength, whispering, "They were dead. My parents."
"Why… why…" His voice broke. "Didn't they say they don't kill pure-bloods? They said… they were pure-bloods… why…"
McGonagall, eyes red, stepped forward. "James…"
James let out a manic laugh, then continued, dreamlike. "After that, Sirius and I fled. We hid in an old house my Uncle Alphard left behind."
"We kept planning, every day, how to get revenge on the Death Eaters…" He fixed his gaze on Peter, each word deliberate. "How to save that poor wretch."
"But then, at a Death Eater attack on Muggles… we saw him among them." His fists clenched, knuckles white.
"He was standing with them," James said calmly. "We thought he was coerced, so we rushed in to save him, attacked the Death Eaters to get him back."
"But when he saw us, there was no joy, no cry for help, no relief."
"Instead, he raised his wand in panic, alongside the Death Eaters, and fired spells at us…"
Sirius let out a choked sob, tears mingling with unvented rage streaming down his face.
"Caught off guard," James continued, "Sirius was hit by a nasty curse, badly injured. We barely escaped…"
"There's only one explanation," he said, his voice raw with finality. "He betrayed us… for his own survival… or something else… he told the Death Eaters something… and got my parents killed…"
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