While the entire school was busy laughing at Peeves' latest antics, Lupin found himself cornered in a classroom by Harry, who held a photograph in his hand.
For a long moment, Lupin simply stared at the photo in silence. On his face, Harry could read grief, bitterness, and a tangle of emotions that seemed to weigh him down.
Before Harry could even voice his questions, Lupin began to speak, his voice slow and heavy:
"Those were dark times. The year before I started at Hogwarts, You-Know-Who seized power completely. He no longer hid in the shadows—he appeared in public, made his stance clear for all to see.
The Death Eaters unleashed every kind of forbidden magic against wizards who dared to oppose the Dark Arts. Muggle-borns were executed openly. Chaos was everywhere..."
Harry opened his mouth, ready to say that this wasn't what he'd come to hear.
But Lupin seemed to sense his thoughts, shaking his head gently. "Douglas always said the new generation must know these things. That we must remember history. He feared that, years from now, people might twist the truth or even idolize You-Know-Who, forgetting the reality of what happened...
But because of the shadow You-Know-Who still casts, wizards don't like to talk about it. Back then, under Headmaster Dumbledore's protection, we were shielded from the war."
Harry couldn't help but interrupt, "That's because Voldemort was afraid of Dumbledore!"
Lupin nodded. "Even so, news from outside always found its way in. He recruited giants, werewolves... all sorts of magical creatures who'd been pushed to the margins. The Ministry was in turmoil.
And even at school, some students began to idolize You-Know-Who."
"It had to be Slytherin!" Harry blurted out.
Lupin gave a faint smile. "Later, some wizards lost faith in the Ministry. Under Dumbledore's guidance, they began to organize resistance. After we graduated, we joined the fight too. That photo was taken right after we left school."
He paused, drawing in a deep breath, as if he needed the air to steady himself.
"Later, there was talk of a traitor in our ranks. But we never learned who it was.
It was around then that, for reasons I never fully understood, James and Lily—who was pregnant with you—were sent by Dumbledore to Godric's Hollow. He suggested using the Fidelius Charm to keep you all safe…"
Harry cut in, "Black was the Secret-Keeper for the Fidelius Charm, Professor. I told you that before."
Lupin nodded, his gaze steady and searching. "I remember you said you weren't sure that was the whole truth, that you wanted to investigate for yourself. So—what did you find?"
Harry shook his head, frustration etched on his face. "In the end, I still think the Secret-Keeper had to be Black. He was my father's best friend, my godfather. Dad trusted him more than anyone. Too bad he was wrong…"
Lupin let out a long, weary sigh. His voice dropped to a whisper. "He wasn't wrong. Not ever. It was others who failed—and the price for those mistakes was terrible."
Harry frowned, confused. "Who was wrong, then?"
Lupin didn't answer. Instead, he asked, "If you were to cast the Fidelius Charm, who would you choose as your Secret-Keeper?"
Names flashed through Harry's mind—Ron, Hermione, Douglas. He was about to answer when Lupin stopped him with a look.
"No need to answer so quickly. Do you really think your enemies wouldn't guess whoever you'd pick?"
Harry froze, uncertain what Lupin meant.
But then he remembered why he'd come here in the first place. He quickly asked, "Professor, I actually wanted to ask about Black. We suspect he might be a werewolf.
Since you knew each other at school, do you know how he became one? Why would my father trust a werewolf?"
At this, Lupin drew a deep, steadying breath. "James was a good man. He trusted his friends."
Harry protested, "But he was wrong!"
Lupin's voice grew rough, nearly breaking. "I told you, he wasn't wrong. Never.
It was I who failed. And Sirius. We put our trust in the wrong person…
I'm sorry, but question time is over. You can go now, Harry."
With that, Lupin turned away, ignoring Harry completely as he strode out of the classroom.
Back then, it was he who'd urged James and Sirius to accept Peter as their friend. If Peter hadn't been part of their group, Sirius would never have chosen him to be the Secret-Keeper.
Ever since learning the truth, guilt had gnawed at Lupin. He'd always believed it was his fault, that he'd doomed two of his dearest friends.
If Douglas hadn't kept insisting that Peter alive was more valuable than dead, Lupin would have stormed into the Gryffindor dormitory and torn that rat to shreds without a second thought.
Watching Lupin's retreating figure, Harry called out, voice ringing in the empty corridor, "Peter Pettigrew isn't dead… I don't believe it!"
But Lupin didn't even pause. He disappeared down the hall, leaving Harry alone with his confusion and a tangle of unanswered questions.
What did Lupin mean—Black was wrong, Lupin was wrong? None of it made sense.
By the time Lupin left the classroom, it was already half past eleven. He didn't return to his office. Instead, he headed straight for Douglas's.
"Douglas, got any firewhisky?"
Dressed in pajamas, Douglas didn't ask questions. He simply snapped his fingers, and several bottles floated from the cabinet to the coffee table.
A quill hopped out of its holder on the desk, scribbled a few words on a scrap of parchment, and the note fluttered into the fireplace.
Moments later, Sirius tumbled out of the flames, also in pajamas.
"What's happened?"
Lupin poured himself a drink and knocked it back in one go, then handed the photograph to Sirius.
Douglas took a quick glance, then looked at Sirius and quipped, "What a waste of a handsome face."
Sirius examined the photo, spotting a mark only he would recognize. His voice was low and rough. "This is the one from James's house. Moony, did you…?"
Lupin shook his head. "Someone must have found it among James's things and passed it on to Harry.
Douglas, tonight Harry brought me this photo. I told him what you said to share—just the key facts."
He downed another glass.
Douglas frowned slightly. He could tell something in the conversation had shaken Lupin, but he didn't know all the details of their past.
Sirius eyed Lupin, poured himself a drink, and tossed it back, his voice hoarse. "Moony, I know what's on your mind. You weren't wrong. We all thought he was a friend, didn't we? No one could have seen what happened coming.
Honestly… I even found myself doubting you before I ever doubted him. I was the one who was wrong."
Lupin gave a bitter, wry smile and shook his head.
Douglas poured himself a drink, clinked glasses with them, and took a sip.
Seeing Douglas raise his glass, the other two did the same, draining theirs in silence.
Noticing Douglas's confusion, Lupin spoke at last, his voice low. "It was me. I was the one who pushed James and Sirius to accept that damned traitor."
Now Douglas understood the depth of Lupin's remorse.
He guessed that, ever since learning the truth, this guilt had taken root in Lupin's heart. And tonight, Harry's questions had brought it all crashing back.
Sirius looked at Lupin for a long moment. "Moony, you've always been too kind.
I remember how you used to wish James and I'd stop breaking school rules—and you were a Prefect, after all. Sometimes you made us feel downright ashamed…"
Douglas glanced at Sirius—that sounded a bit off. Was he already tipsy?
Lupin played along, a faint smile on his lips. "Oh, Merlin's beard, so you did know what shame was! I remember begging you both to leave Snape alone… It took everything I had to tell you I thought you were breaking the rules!"
Douglas's eyes sparkled. He quickly filled their glasses again, grinning. "Come on, tell me more…"
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