Lupin’s breath caught mid-gasp, and then he dropped to his knees, spine snapping back. His mouth opened in a silent scream as bones shifted under skin, robes tearing at the seams.

Neville made a noise as he took a step back.

The first snarl ripped out of Lupin’s throat.

The werewolf stood where the man had been, fur bristling, eyes glassy, breathing hard.

Pettigrew whimpered from inside the rune circle.

Cassian sighed. “For the love of everything holy…”

His hand trembled as he forced the magic through his wand. Blood dripped over his lip, thick and fast, but the spell still hit its mark.

“Corpus Obstrictus.”

Lupin froze mid-lunge. Spine locked, muscles rigid, teeth bared and half-shifted. The growl died in his throat as his limbs stilled, veins stoning under his skin, as if something ancient had reached through him and said no.

Hermione whispered, “That’s…”

Her eyes were fixed on Lupin’s face. The last twitch of his lip had frozen too, caught mid-snarl.

Petrified.

It hit all of them at once, last year, the Basilisk. The stony stare, the stiff limbs, the silence.

Ron took a step back. Harry didn’t move. None of them said it aloud, but their eyes all drifted to the same place.

Cassian, on one knee, nose bleeding down his shirt, wand still raised.

Bathsheda was already at his side, hand pressed to his cheek as she tried to tilt his head back. “Hold still.”

He snorted, wiped at his face with the back of his wrist. “Why? It’s not my blood pressure I’m worried about.”

“You absolute…” She shoved a cloth at his face, ignoring the rest.

Behind them, Pettigrew had curled into a tighter ball inside the rune circle. Sirius hadn’t moved. Neither had Snape. The whole clearing felt frozen now.

Cassian finally let Bathsheda take the wand out of his hand. “That wasn’t that wise.”

“No,” she muttered, working the cloth across his upper lip, “It bloody wasn’t.”

Cassian grinned. “What? Couldn’t destroy the moon… or could I?” He winked at Neville.

Snape stepped forward at last. “That was a level seven containment hex. With blood price. No… I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Cassian swiped the blood away. “Welcome to postgraduate spellcraft, Severus. Do keep up.”

Snape looked ready to murder someone. Preferably him.

Bathsheda tucked the cloth into Cassian’s hand and stood, voice sharp. “Snape, did you feed him… the water?”

Snape gave a stiff nod.

She turned back to the rune circle. “Good. Speak. From the beginning, and don’t skip anything.”

Pettigrew didn’t answer straightaway. Just curled tighter, probably expecting the ground to open and let him in.

Cassian crouched again, elbows resting on his knees. “You heard her. S-start talking, or I swear I’ll let Severus here have a go at extracting the truth through interpretive potion-making.”

Peter lifted his head, face blotchy, voice cracked.

“I… I didn’t mean to. I was scared. You don’t understand.”

Cassian drew a painful breath, suppressing the bite in his ribs. “Speak before I lose my patience.”

Peter whimpered. His eyes darted, like he was trying to hold back words with sheer panic. Didn’t work.

“I was the Secret Keeper,” he croaked. “Not Sirius. Me.”

The group, despite already expecting, recoiled.

Harry’s mouth opened. No words came out.

Cassian tilted his head. “Right. That’s the headline. Now the article, Peter.”

Pettigrew swallowed hard. “We switched at the last moment. Dumbledore suggested Sirius, he was the obvious one. Brave. Loud. Everyone thought he’d die for them. But that’s why we changed it. Hide the truth behind something expected. They thought it would be funny. Said no one would ever suspect me.”

He winced, jaw clenching as if the confession was scraping something inside.

“And they agreed.”

“I passed the secret to Voldemort two days later.”

He blinked, breath shaking. “I just… did it. I told him.”

Harry clenched his fist, Sirius looked a second from pouncing.

Pettigrew’s voice cracked. “And then they died.”

Thunder rumbled far off, low and rolling, and the first pinpricks of cold rain tapped against the leaves, as though the world itself recoiled from his words.

“I watched the house go up from the trees,” he said. “Could hear their screams. Could hear the baby cry. Green lights, and then gone.”

Harry’s face twisted.

Peter’s breath hitched as he dragged himself upright.

“When he didn’t come out after five minutes,” he croaked, “I went in. Dark Lord was gone. Nothing there. Just the crying boy with a scar on his forehead.”

“I took his wand,” Peter went on, hands twitching against the ground. “Wanted to… I don’t know. Do something. Then I heard the bike.”

Sirius’s fingers curled.

Peter’s head snapped up. “I ran. Sirius chased. Didn’t even look at the house. He didn’t stop. Like a dog, mad and foaming, wouldn’t let up. So I…”

His throat jumped.

“I made the explosion. Killed the Muggles. Cut off a finger. Then vanished.”

“Sirius… he was far too gone. Crying. Kept saying I killed them. Over and over. I realised he wasn’t going to explain anything and even if he did… everyone thought he was the keeper. So I ran. I had to get close to another magical family. Somewhere close to Dumbledore’s lot, but not too rich to question a dirty rat showing up. The Weasleys fit perfectly. I slipped into the Burrow. They took me in. Passed me from kid to kid.”

Cassian stepped into the rune circle.

His hand clenched around Peter’s collar and jerked him half upright. “You betrayed your best friends”

Pettigrew made a choked noise.

“You sick little freak,” Cassian snapped, voice sharp and cold. “You lived with children. You slept in their rooms? Ate at their table?”

His fist cracked across Peter’s face. Nose snapped sideways with a wet crunch.

Bathsheda didn’t stop him.

Neither did Snape.

Peter folded on himself, bleeding, but Cassian yanked him back again.

“You spy on them too?” Another hit, lower this time, right into the gut. Peter wheezed.

“You absolute filth,” Cassian muttered. “Rat at the pillow, rat in the bloody walls. Were you waiting to sell them too? Or just enjoyed crawling over schoolkids in your spare time?”

Peter didn’t answer. Couldn’t. He was too busy choking on blood.

Cassian let him fall. “It was you who bit my ankle last year, wasn’t it?” he spat.

Peter swallowed, shaking. “Yes,” he answered, still forced.

Sirius took a step forward. There was murder in his face.

Peter spat blood. “Please… I didn’t…”

Cassian stood before Sirius, whose face was twisted, jaw clenched tight.

“Step aside, Rosier.”

Cassian didn’t.

He swung.

The punch landed clean, bone to cheek, Sirius reeled back like a sack of bricks and hit the ground with a thud.

Harry shouted first. “What are you doing?!”

Hermione and Neville surged forward. Ron swore. Even Snape flinched.

Cassian barely glanced at them. “Nothing.”

He flicked his wand. A leaf of light zipped off toward the castle, darting between trees.

Just as Cassian turned toward the kids, the air chilled. A shape drifted out from the trees. Then another. Then too many.

Dementors.

Dozens, and all heading straight for Black.

Cassian clicked his tongue. “Back off.”

They didn’t.

Figures floated lower, robes billowing like wet smoke. The one in the lead turned slightly, its faceless hood locking onto Sirius like a dog to a wounded hare.

Cassian stepped forward, wand up. “He’s innocent, you oversized bed sheet. Back. Off.”

No use.

They kept coming.

“You useless tossers,” he muttered.

He didn’t bother shouting again. Just raised his wand and snapped out, “Expecto Patronum!”

The light burst out fast, white and angry. It surged forward, slamming into the first Dementor and sending it spinning like a tossed cloak. The others paused, but only for a second.

Bathsheda was right behind him, her Patronus slashing through the mist. Eight more Dementors reeled away, smoke trailing off them.

But they weren’t the only targets.

More peeled off. Drifted sideways. Toward the students.

He twisted back, three Dementors already hovering near Potter and the others.

Neville stumbled back. Hermione grabbed Ron. Harry didn’t move. Eyes locked forward, jaw clenched like he was trying to remember something he’d forgotten.

Snape raised his wand, but two Patronuses shot out before he could cast.

A lion tore from Neville’s wand, massive and bright, bounding in a wide circle round the others. Every time a Dementor twitched toward them, it bared its teeth and growled.

From Harry’s wand came a snake, long, sleek, upright. It swayed as if it was tasting the air, tongue flicking the air, then snapped forward with a hiss that sent the nearest Dementor veering back into the trees.

Cassian’s brows went up. “Well. That’s new.”

Snape didn’t lower his wand, but his eyes flicked to the boy.

Cassian turned toward the Dementors. “This is your last warning.”

The lead one drifted forward, robes dragging through the mist. He is a fugitive.

Cassian snorted. “And I’m telling you, he’s innocent. Headmaster’s on his way.”

The thing didn’t stop. Its hand started to stretch out.

Cassian let out a sharp breath. “Right. Sod this.”

The light from his wand flared, white so bright, it cut through the gloom instantly. From the ground beneath him, the Patronus surged, massive and growing. White bark, wide branches unfurling.

Its limbs twisted through the air, fast and high, curling out above the group in every direction. The leaves shimmered as they spun, catching moonlight like they’d been dipped in frost. Tendrils whipped forward. Caught the first Dementor across the chest.

It screamed. Sharp and awful.

The tree didn’t stop. Its roots punched through stone, splitting the ground with a low, groaning crack. The trunk thickened. More branches reached out. More leaves circled, forming a shield, fencing in the clearing.

Another Dementor lunged, too slow. A branch caught it, wrapped tight, and yanked. It twisted as it went down, howling.

Then the tree grew again, higher, broader, casting a wide, shimmering dome of leaves and light over everyone in the clearing. The air inside warmed. Breath came easier. The cold, creeping sensation of the Dementors started to melt.

The lead Dementor gave one last rasp and slipped backwards into the dark. The rest followed.

Cassian watched until the last one vanished.

Then finally, he dropped his wand hand.

The tree beginning to fade, leaves drifting down.

He spat blood onto the dirt. “Bloody dramatic, that.”

Snape stood frozen. Sirius was still on the ground, eyes wide. Lupin was stone. Harry stared at the disappearing tree like it had pulled itself out of some old storybook and smacked reality upside the head.

Cassian swayed slightly, caught himself.

“Someone fetch Dumbledore,” he muttered. “Before I have to do something worse. Like paperwork.”

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