"If I'm not mistaken, this path leads straight to Snape's territory," Argus muttered under his breath.
"Out of all the spots in the castle, why'd you pick Snape's domain?" Peter hissed, his voice laced with dread.
To keep Peter from botching the act, Argus had only shared a sliver of the plan. Now, the rat Animagus realized he'd been played, panic surging through him like ice water. But he clenched his jaw and pressed on. Sticking to Argus's scheme might buy him a few more breaths. Resisting? That promised agony far worse than a swift end.
After a quick mental tally of risks, Peter swallowed hard and stepped deeper into the shadows. He never imagined he'd stumble straight into the one wizard who hungered for his blood most.
Anyone else might show mercy. Even Sirius would settle for a thrashing, not murder—they needed Peter alive to clear the air about that fateful night. But Snape? He loathed the Marauders with a venom that burned eternal, wishing Sirius would rot forever in Azkaban. And now, betrayal had cost him Lily. Old wounds and fresh ones demanded settling.
No escape for Peter Pettigrew.
The instant he rounded the corner, a sickly green bolt streaked toward him—Avada Kedavra.
Peter yelped and leaped aside, heart hammering. Merlin's beard! This wasn't a scolding; it was a death sentence. Casting the Killing Curse inside Hogwarts? One nosy student spotting that, and Snape's career was toast.
The blast's echo drew Argus like a magnet. Lupin bolted in too, wand at the ready.
Peter flailed in blind terror, bolting toward them. He'd planned to drag this out, but now he craved capture—anything to dodge Snape's wrath. Argus or Lupin might shield him; Snape would carve him apart.
Ron and Harry caught the commotion from afar. Harry's eyes sparked with thrill, zeroing in on the chaos.
"Harry, what... what was that?" Ron stammered, clueless about Argus's ploy. All he pictured was last year's near-disaster turning them into vegetables. His knees wobbled. "Harry, maybe we should head back to the common room? This place feels wrong."
"Yeah, let's go," Harry agreed, itching for Ron to scram so he could investigate alone.
By the time the boys retreated, Argus and Lupin had converged on Snape's pursuit. Together, they herded Peter into a blind corridor, right on script.
Lupin spotted the green flash lingering on Snape's wandtip and scowled. "Snape, we need him alive! The truth about that night is still buried, and Sirius's name isn't cleared. Kill him now, and what becomes of Sirius?"
Snape's face was stone, unmoved. Sirius? Let him stew in Azkaban's despair until it broke him. Revenge was all that mattered—Peter's head on a platter.
Lupin glanced at Argus for backup. Argus had no intention of letting Peter check out prematurely. Not with an Unbreakable Vow hanging over them like a guillotine. He needed the rat intact for Sirius.
"Professor," Argus said evenly, "I get it—you want him suffering. But Avada Kedavra? That's mercy. A clean end's too kind for scum like him."
Peter, scrambling ahead on all fours, nearly collapsed at the words. What a boss! Even death's off-limits?
Snape paused, then snarled and flicked his wand to Expelliarmus. Still vicious, but survivable—for now.
Two minutes of frantic chase later, Peter slammed into a dead end, panting like a cornered beast.
"Peter," Lupin growled, wand steady as he advanced, "no hello for your old mates?"
Peter ignored him, squeezing into rat form with expert speed, squeaking furiously to sell the panic.
Snape shoved Lupin aside, eyes blazing. "Out of my way. I'll end this."
A ripple of magic surged from his wand. The rat bloated and twisted back into human shape—filthy, pudgy, and squirming on the grimy floor. Peter, dazed, kept rat instincts: curling tight, twitching.
It took spotting his own stubby fingers for reality to hit. He blinked up, feigning shock. "Remus! Old friend! And... Severus! It's been ages!"
He shuffled forward, then lunged—aiming to revert and bolt. Snape anticipated, slamming Incarcerous down. Ropes snapped around him, binding tight.
"Still a slimy coward," Snape sneered, then hurled Crucio without mercy.
Peter's world exploded in white-hot torment. He writhed, desperate to curl fetal, but the bonds held him rigid. Only his mind could scream, eyes bulging red as he locked pleading stares on Argus and Lupin.
"Enough, Snape!" Lupin barked, wrenching his wand to cancel the curse and loosen the ropes just enough.
Snape whirled on him. "You dare lecture me, werewolf?"
He raised his wand again, but Argus cut in. "Professor, let's secure him first. Find a spot to stash him, then plan."
He nodded at the scorched floor and dented walls. "We've made a racket. Prefects and professors will swarm soon. The Room of Requirement—it's closest."
Snape, the haze of rage clearing, gave a curt nod. He'd lost control, and that stung.
Lupin exhaled sharply and cast a Disillusionment Charm over Peter, cloaking him invisible. They hauled the whimpering traitor upstairs.
In the Room of Requirement, Sirius and Harry waited anxiously.
"Did you get him?" Sirius demanded, voice cracking.
Harry peered behind them, spotting nothing but shadows. Disappointment flickered—had it been a bust?
Lupin waved his wand, dispelling the illusion. Peter's greasy form materialized, trussed and trembling.
Sirius's eyes ignited with fury. He lunged, fingers clamping Peter's throat like iron. "Why? Tell me, you rat—why'd you betray us?!"
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