"Enough!" Professor McGonagall's sharp voice cracked through the air as her wand leveled at the three men bound to the chairs. "Langlock!"
James and Sirius's furious roars were cut off mid-shout, their mouths moving uselessly as only muffled groans came out; Pettigrew, meanwhile, froze completely, only his eyes still darted wildly in terror.
Professor McGonagall's chest rose and fell as she fought to steady her emotions. At last, her gaze settled on Moody, who stood before them, road-worn and grim.
"Alastor," she said, "tell us exactly how you found them."
Moody stamped his wooden leg against the deck. There were still bits of unmelted snow clinging to his traveling cloak. The blue artificial eye Grindelwald had made for him was already fitted back in place, giving his scarred face an even more intimidating edge.
"Minerva," he rasped, his voice gravelly with exhaustion, "we were in northern Wiltshire, tracking a group of Death Eater scum who'd attacked a Muggle village."
"What we didn't expect," his tone deepened, "was that the fight had already started. From behind the ruins of a burnt-out barn, we heard the sound of spells flying. When we got there, we saw them, these three."
"At the time," Moody frowned, recalling the scene, "they were fighting five or six Death Eaters. Potter and Black were at the front, fighting hard." He shifted his wooden leg slightly and went on, "We joined in. During the chaos, Potter was caught and tied up tight by a Full Body-Bind. Black tried to save him, but got hit with a Stunning Spell."
"As for him-" Moody's enchanted eye spun furiously in its socket, fixing on Wormtail with visible disgust. "That coward was just a few steps away from one of the Death Eaters. Didn't cast a single spell. Didn't even run. Just stood there shaking, like a frightened rat."
At that, Wormtail shook harder, his small eyes darting constantly toward the tightly shut cabin door, a pitiful whimper escaping his throat even though the fire in the hearth burned bright and warm.
"The fight was nasty," Moody continued, cutting through the heavy silence. "Those bastards were cunning, but being flanked threw them into disarray. We beat them back. When they saw they were losing, they Apparated away."
"Not until the battle was over did Wormtail finally crawl out, trembling so hard he could barely hold his wand."
"Then came the strange part." He scowled, pulling a wand from his cloak. "This one suddenly turned, ran right past the tied-up Potter."
"Potter, though bound, somehow found the strength to headbutt him square in the face. Wormtail went down hard, ate dirt, and dropped his wand. This one, right here."
Moody lifted the wand high. Wormtail's eyes followed it hungrily.
"After that," Moody went on, pocketing the wand again, "we moved in and cut the ropes off Potter. The moment he was free, his eyes went red."
"He didn't reach for his wand, didn't try to help his friend, he went straight for Wormtail like a rabid stag, fists flying, kicking and thrashing, trying to strangle him."
"We had to tie him again," Moody said with a shake of his head. "Then we lifted the Stunning Spell on Black. But the moment he woke up, he roared and lunged at Pettigrew too, same as Potter."
"Took all our effort to separate them." He spread his hands. "We didn't know what the hell was going on between the three of them. For safety, and to stop them killing each other, we silenced them with a spell. And, incidentally, cleaned up Mr. Pettigrew's... trousers."
"Once we confirmed there were no tracking charms or other magic on them that could give away our location," Moody finished, "we brought them back. That's all of it."
He fell silent. Only the crackling of the fire and the ragged breathing of those present filled the room. Every eye turned to the three bound Marauders.
James and Sirius's faces were contorted with fury and restraint. Their silent hatred toward Pettigrew burned like open flame.
Snape, though he already suspected the cause, still had questions. He turned toward Professor McGonagall and said quietly, "Professor, perhaps we should let them speak for themselves. Potter and Black's rage must have a source. Hearing them might clarify the details."
McGonagall's expression was grave. She nodded once.
"Finite Incantatem!" she said sharply, flicking her wand.
In the instant the spells broke, three voices exploded at once.
"He's the traitor!" Sirius was the first to howl, his voice raw with hatred. He thrashed so violently that the chair scraped across the floor. "He joined the Death Eaters! That filthy coward! That spineless rat! He's the reason-"
"I don't know, what you're talking about!" Pettigrew shrieked, his pitch climbing so high it hurt the ears.
"James, Sirius, you're mad!" he gasped, sweating and trembling so violently he looked ready to fall apart. "Slander! Why are you doing this to me?" His words tumbled out incoherently as he turned to McGonagall, pleading for mercy.
Seeing the two men about to erupt again, McGonagall quickly raised her wand. "Silence!"
Their voices cut off again, but the hatred in their eyes only grew deeper.
Looking at Pettigrew's sniveling, tear-streaked face, McGonagall hesitated. In her mind, Peter had always been the timid one, the one who hid behind his friends, never brave, never threatening.
She found herself leaning toward the thought that perhaps he was coerced, or framed. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Peter, you start. Tell us what happened. Why are they accusing you like this?"
Snape let out a soft, derisive laugh but said nothing, merely crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to watch Wormtail's performance.
Shivering violently, Pettigrew seized the chance like a drowning man clutching driftwood. Tears and snot ran freely down his face as he sobbed:
"Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, please! You mustn't believe them! They want to kill me, really kill me! They've gone mad, just because I'm a Mudblood! They think I'm weak and easy to bully, so they want to hand me over to the Death Eaters, but even the Death Eaters wouldn't accept such cruelty!"
"For Merlin's sake, save me!" he wailed, voice shrill with hysteria. "We were such good friends once... I never meant..."
James's gaunt, hollowed face looked almost skeletal now.
Though he couldn't speak, his eyes, dark, fathomless, bored into Pettigrew like knives.
Pettigrew flinched, curling in on himself, avoiding James's gaze as though he could disappear into the floorboards.
Sweating profusely, he stammered on, desperate to defend himself.
"I thought they were my friends... When... when we were in Godric's Hollow... they took me in... but later... they... they wanted to capture me, hand me to the Death Eaters!
"Yes, that's it! They wanted to trade me for safety! I escaped, I barely escaped alive-" He broke into sobs again.
Sirius's teeth ground audibly, his face twisting with pure rage.
"Enough," Snape cut in, his voice cold and sharp. "Spare us your pathetic act." He stepped forward, towering over the trembling man in the chair.
"Wormtail," he said, "anything else to add? About your supposed 'innocence'?"
Pettigrew looked up at him like a man clutching his last hope.
"Severus, Severus," he pleaded, "they're both from pure-blood families, you have to believe me! You and I, we're the same, we're not pure-bloods! They've always looked down on people like us, bullied us! Those pure-blood maniacs, they'll kill us both!"
Snape's only reply was a silent flick of his wand.
Pettigrew managed one last strangled syllable before falling mute again, lips moving soundlessly, eyes wide with terror.
Snape didn't spare him another glance. He turned his wand on James.
"Your turn, Potter," he said coolly. "Tell us the real story."
James's breathing came in ragged gasps. He swallowed hard, fighting the choking surge of grief and fury that seemed to consume him from within.
He closed his eyes. When he opened them, his voice was hoarse, scraped raw.
"After we left here..." Each word seemed to cost him effort. "Sirius and I took him back to Godric's Hollow, to my home. My parents... took us in."
"We thought..." His voice cracked with bitterness. "At least there, we'd be safe. For a while... it almost felt peaceful..." He struggled to go on. "But it didn't last. The Death Eaters found us."
"They invited us to join them, my whole family, but my parents refused."
"Then they came again. Twice more. Each time, they were angrier." He began to tremble uncontrollably, voice dropping low. "The third time... they came too suddenly."
"They saw Wormtail... in the living room." He paused, breathing heavily. "They realized what 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 everywhere."
"When they left," James said, his eyes blank with memory, "their leader jabbed his wand against my face and said, 'Think it over, little Potter. If you want that filthy Mudblood alive, you'd better reconsider our generous offer.'"
The cabin was utterly silent. McGonagall pressed her lips together, eyes bright with pain. Even Moody's magical eye had stopped spinning, fixed on James.
"We kept trying," James whispered. "We planned every way we could think of to rescue him. Maybe if we pretended to join them, they'd release him, and then we'd run, hide far away.
"Or maybe we could infiltrate the Ministry, find where they kept him..." He looked at Pettigrew, eyes hollow. "We thought of everything to save him."
"But then..." His voice suddenly sharpened, breaking into something like a wounded beast's cry. He strained against the ropes, which dug deep into his flesh. "One day... Sirius and I... we went out... looking for news... When we came home..."
"What we saw..." James could hardly breathe. "Was rubble. Half the house, gone."
"Under the debris..." His throat caught, words dissolving into a raw, broken growl.
It took him a long time before he could speak again, voice barely a whisper. "They were dead. My mum and dad."
"Why... why?" he rasped, staring into nothing. "They don't kill pure-bloods, they said they don't... they're pure-bloods too... why..."
"James..." McGonagall's voice shook as she stepped forward, eyes red.
James gave a cracked laugh, a hollow, delirious sound. Then, like a man trapped in a dream, he continued, toneless:
"After that, Sirius and I ran. We hid in one of Uncle Alphard's old houses."
"All that time, we kept thinking, every day, how to get revenge on the Death Eaters." He turned his bloodshot eyes on Pettigrew. "How to save that pitiful worm."
"But then, one day, at the scene of a Death Eater attack on Muggles... among their ranks... we saw him."
James's fists clenched so tightly his knuckles went white.
"He was standing with them," James said, voice eerily calm. "We thought he was being forced, so we charged in, fought the Death Eaters, tried to drag him out."
"But when he saw us, there was no joy. No plea for help. Nothing."
"Instead, he looked terrified, and raised his wand. And cast spells at us. With them."
Sirius gave a strangled sob beside him, tears streaking down his face, fury and grief tangled together.
"Caught off guard," James whispered, "Sirius was hit by a dark curse, badly wounded. We barely escaped alive."
"There was only one explanation left." His voice trembled with rage. "He betrayed us. He told the Death Eaters something, whatever it was, it killed my parents."