Chapter 30

Every eye in the room was set on Scabbers, the rat squealing and clawing at Ron’s hands, the boy doing an amazing job at keeping them clamped shut despite the assault. Atlas advanced on him and Ron immediately tried to crawl backwards, only getting a few metres at most before he ran out of strength and collapsed backwards. The girl stopped over him, bending down with her hand outstretched.

“Atlas! Atlas please!” Ron begged weakly, “Come off it! Are you trying to say your dad broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean…” He looked up at Harry and Hermione for support as Atlas just ignored him, “Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how’s he supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?”

The words made her stop and she slowly turned to face her dad, eye cocked quizzically. It only took a second before Remus was asking the question on her mind. “You know, Sirius, that’s a fair question,” he said, turning to Sirius and frowning slightly. “How did you find out where he was?”

Mutely, Sirius pulled out something from his crumbling robes and took out a piece of paper, which he smoothed out flat to have it in its best condition to show. He turned it to them and Atlas stared at the picture of Ron and his – presumed – family standing in front of the Pyramids of Eygpt.

“How did you get this?” Remus asked, carefully taking it up in his hands, thunderstruck. Atlas moved away from Ron and over to the newspaper clipping, staring down at it in wonder.

“Fudge,” Sirius said simply and Atlas looked at him with a cocked brow. “When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy’s shoulder…I knew him at once…how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts…to where Atlas and Harry were…”

“My God,” Remus said softly, glancing at Scabbers and then at the picture again, “His front paw…”

“What about it?” Ron said defiantly.

“He’s got a toe missing,” Sirius huffed and Atlas clocked on immediately. All they could find of Pettigrew was his finger.

“Of course,” Remus breathed. “So simple…so brilliant…he cut it off himself?”

“Just before he transformed,” Sirius nodded. “When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James…betrayed Amaya. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats….”

“Didn’t you ever hear, Ron?” Remus asked. “The biggest bit of Peter they found was his–“

“–finger,” Atlas finished, gaze now set back on the rat.

“Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He’s been in my family for ages, right –“

“Twelve years, in fact,” Remus finished, “Didn’t you ever wonder why he was living so long?”

“We — we’ve been taking good care of him!” Ron tried, starting to look quite desperate.

“Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?” Remus sneered. “I’d guess he’s been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again….”

“He’s been scared of that mad cat!” Ron argued, nodding towards Crookshanks who was sleeping soundly on the old four-poster, blissfully unaware of his surroundings.

“This cat isn’t mad,” Black refuted hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks’s fluffy head. “He’s the most intelligent of his kind I’ve ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me…Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he’s been helping me…”

“What do you mean?” Hermione breathed moving over to stand beside Atlas who was smiling fondly, no wonder the damned cat was so intelligent, he wasn’t a cat at all.

“Crookshanks is a Kneazle,” She sighed and the cat peered over at her, swishing his tail playfully.

“Right you are, little star,” Sirius cracked a proud smile and Atlas ducked her head, rubbing the back of her neck. It didn’t help that Hermione started staring at her too, so instead of ducking her head she just looked to the ceiling. “He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn’t…so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me…As I understand it, he took them from a boy’s bedside table…”

Atlas thought of Neville’s fate and grimaced sympathetically.

“But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it.” Sirius growled, “This cat — Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets…I supposed he bit himself…Well, faking his own death had worked once.”

“And why did he fake his death?” Harry suddenly said furiously, jolting out of whatever calm he had been in. “Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!”

“No,” Remus tried, “Harry–“

“And now you’ve come to finish him off!”

“Yes, I have,” Sirius agreed, with an evil look at Scabbers.

“Then I should’ve let Snape take you!” Harry shouted.

“Harry,” Lupin said hurriedly, “don’t you see? All this time we’ve thought Sirius betrayed your parents, betrayed Amaya, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don’t you see? Peter betrayed your parents and Atlas’s mother –” Atlas shuffled uncomfortably, seeing the bloody images flicker in her mind. She let out a shuddering breath, accepting Hermione’s hand as the shorter girl intertwined their fingers. “– Sirius tracked Peter down –“

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Harry yelled. “HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!”

“Harry…I as good as killed them,” Sirius croaked. “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me…he was already Amaya’s Secret-Keeper…I’m to blame, I know it…The night they died, I’d arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he’d gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents’ house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies…I realized what Peter must’ve done…what I’d done…”

“What happened to mum?” Atlas asked and the room grew still, none of them expecting for Atlas of all people to openly bring up her mother in such a context.

“Atlas…Peter…he was your mother’s Secret-Keeper, not even I knew where she hid with you…when I found out…about what happened, it was too late, many months too late. My little star…I didn’t know until they locked me up, that Amaya — Amaya died and you…well…” he didn’t say anything else, his eyes roaming the scars on Atlas’s face was enough of an answer to her. “I’m sorry…it was my fault…I should have stayed…I should have stayed…”

His voice died out to a whimper, tears falling from his eyes and Atlas’s urge to hug him came back. 

“Enough of this,” Remus interrupted, his voice was firm and steely, garnering Atlas’s attention. “There’s one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat.”

“What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?” Ron asked the professor tensely.

“Force him to show himself,” Remus said. “If he really is a rat, it won’t hurt him.”

Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers, Remus going forward to take him up by his scruff. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. “Ready, Sirius?” 

Sirius held Snape’s wand in his hand and approached the struggling rat, eyes burning with so much hatred even the pits of hell would pale in comparison. “Together?” he asked quietly.

“I think so,” Remus agreed, tightening his hold on Scabbers. “On the count of three. One — two — THREE!”

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small grey form twisting madly – Ron cried out but Harry stopped him from standing – the rat fell and hit the floor, a sickly thud resounding through Atlas’s ears. There was another blinding flash of light and then —

There stood a man, his back facing Atlas but his form reminding her of something, or rather, someone she had seen once before. It felt like there had been two occasions, one recent and one old, both ultimately connected by this man. All she could pay attention to was his height and stubbiness, the bald patch on his head also pulling a few memories from the chasms of her mind. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing on end.

“Well, hello, Peter,” Remus said pleasantly, as if it were a common reunion between friends. “Long time, no see.”

“S–Sirius…R–Remus…” Peter’s voice was squeaky, frightened, something Atlas had heard before in the distant past, she just couldn’t place when and where, “My friends…my old friends…”

Sirius raised his arm but Remus quickly pushed it back down, “We’ve been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed –“

“Remus,” Peter gasped and Atlas narrowed her eyes, catching a glimpse at his scabby profile, “you don’t believe him, do you…? He tried to kill me, Remus….”

“So we’ve heard,” Remus said, his tone taking on a sharper key. “I’d like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you’ll be so –“

“He’s come to try and kill me again!” Peter squeaked suddenly, pointing his middle finger at Sirius, his index finger missing. “He killed Lily and James and now he’s going to kill me too…You’ve got to help me, Remus….”

“No one’s going to try and kill you until we’ve sorted a few things out,” Remus cleared, putting his arm out in front of a steadily rage-fueled Sirius.

“Sorted things out?” Peter cried, head-turning in wild motions, first to the windows, to the holes in the floor, to the door but never to Atlas, as if he had something to hide from her in particular. “I knew he’d come after me! I knew he’d be back for me! I’ve been waiting for this for twelve years!”

“You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?” Remus asked, his brow furrowed. “When nobody has ever done it before?”

“He’s got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!” Petter shouted shrilly. “How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!”

Sirius started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room. Echoed around inside Atlas’s ears, the girl shuddering at the sound. “Voldemort, teach me tricks?” he said. Peter flinched as though Sirius had spoken a particularly offensive curse. “What, scared to hear your old master’s name?” he continued, “I don’t blame you, Peter. His lot aren’t very happy with you, are they?”

“Don’t know what you mean, Sirius –” Peter muttered, nervously dabbing at the sweat lining the sides of his face.

“You haven’t been hiding from me for twelve years,” Sirius grinned. “You’ve been hiding from Voldemort’s old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter…They all think you’re dead, or you’d have to answer to them…I’ve heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters’ on your information…and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort’s supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they’ve seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter –“

“Don’t know…what you’re talking about…” Peter pressed, looking to Remus urgently. “You don’t believe this — this madness, Remus –“

“I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat,” Remus said, crossing his arms.

“Innocent, but scared!” Peter squealed. “If Voldemort’s supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!”

Atlas’s face contorted into a scowl, as did Sirius’s who quickly advanced on the plump uncanny man.

“How dare you,” he growled. “I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter — I’ll never understand why I didn’t see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who’d look after you, didn’t you? It used to be us…me and Remus…James and Amaya…”

Peter was panting now, Atlas in the background wracking her brain for information on who this man was to her but the harder she thought, the less she remembered. If only he would turn around, maybe then she would remember something.

“Me, a spy…must be out of your mind…never…don’t know how you can say such a –“

“Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because Amaya and I suggested it,” Sirius hissed, so venomously that Peter took a step backwards. “We thought it was the perfect plan…a bluff…Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you…It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters, could hand him my Atlas and Amaya.”

Peter continued to mutter, his head still turning to all the possible routes of escape. Atlas muttered a few spells under her breath, casting hexes and charms on each exit in case the rat-man tried to pull a fast one.

“Professor Lupin?” Hermione said timidly, cautiously looking up at Atlas who was too busy trapping any possible exits Peter might try to escape by. “Can — can I say something?”

“Certainly, Hermione,” Remus nodded courteously. 

“Well — Scabbers — I mean, this — this man — he’s been sleeping in Harry’s dormitory for three years. If he’s working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?”

This got Atlas’s attention, she stopped and looked down at Hermione, failing to catch a glimpse of Peter who had spun around to nod at Hermione vigorously. By the time she looked back – after an apologetic glance from Hermione – Peter was now pointing at Ron.

“There! Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry’s head! Why should I?” Peter excused, wiping at his face again.

“I’ll tell you why,” Sirius spat with so much hatred and mirth that even Atlas felt a victim. “Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort’s been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he’s half dead. You weren’t about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore’s nose, for a wreck of a wizard who’d lost all of his power, were you? You’d want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn’t you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren’t you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him….”

Peter grew silent, mouth opening and closing like a Grindylow out of water.

“Er — Mr Black — Sirius?” Hermione addressed again and all eyes turned to her.

Sirius jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her, quickly glancing over at Atlas who couldn’t help but flush slightly, remembering all the rambling she had done to the stray dog about Hermione Granger.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how — how did you get out of Azkaban?”

“Thank you!” Peter gasped as Sirius frowned slightly, coming up with an answer he could give her.

“I don’t know how I did it,” he said slowly. “I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn’t a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn’t suck it out of me…but it kept me sane and knowing who I am…helped me keep my powers…so when it all became…too much…I could transform in my cell…become a dog. Dementors can’t see, you know…” He swallowed. “They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions…They could tell that my feelings were less — less human, less complex when I was a dog…but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn’t trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand…

“But then I saw Peter in that picture…I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry and Atlas…perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…”

Peter was shaking his head, Atlas could hear the sounds of his mouth moving but not talking, just staring all the while at Sirius as though hypnotized.

“…ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies…and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, delivered Atlas whom Voldemort had wanted since she was born, who’d dare say he’d betrayed Lord Voldemort? He’d be welcomed back with honours…” Sirius said and shuddered at the thought, casting a worried look over at Atlas. She smiled in return, which he seemed to brighten, only slightly, at. “So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive…

“It was as if someone had lit a fire In my head, and the Dementors couldn’t destroy it…It wasn’t a happy feeling…it was an obsession…but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog…It’s so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused…I was thin, very thin…thin enough to slip through the bars…I swam as a dog back to the mainland…I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I’ve been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry….”

He looked at Harry, who did not look away.

“Believe me,” He croaked. “Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them.” Harry nodded mutely, showing he believed him but Sirius didn’t stop. “And Atlas…” tears were flowing from his eyes now, “My little star…you were amazing in the sky, your mother would have been so proud. Oh, I loved her, she was my bestest friend, I would have never betrayed her. Not ever.”

“Dad…” Atlas muttered, her shoulders slumping as she looked at the crumbling man. Again, she didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say, so all she did was stare. Nodding slowly, telling him she believed him, she stood, Hermione’s hand in hers, her only comfort for she didn’t know how to ask for anything more.

“No!”

Peter had fallen to his knees as though Harry’s nod and Atlas’s mumbled ‘dad’ had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, grovelling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

“Sirius — it’s me…it’s Peter…your friend…you wouldn’t –“

Sirius made to kick him.

“There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them,” he spat.

“Remus!” Peter squeaked, turning to Remus instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. “You don’t believe this — wouldn’t Sirius have told you they’d changed the plan?”

“Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter,” Remus said. “I assume that’s why you didn’t tell me, Sirius?” he said casually over to the man.

“Forgive me, Remus,” Sirius bowed somewhat.

“Not at all, Padfoot, old friend,” Remus smiled back,  rolling up his sleeves. “And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?”

“Of course,” Sirius nodded, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. “Shall we kill him together?”

“Yes, I think so,” Remus said grimly.

“You wouldn’t…you won’t…” Peter gasped. And he scrambled around to Ron, the side of his face now visible to Atlas whose brain slowly unfogged, creating a picture of a bedroom, a crib and a broomstick mobile above her.

“Ron…haven’t I been a good friend…a good pet? You won’t let them kill me, Ron, will you…you’re on my side, aren’t you?”

But Ron was staring at Peter with the utmost revulsion.

“I let you sleep in my bed!” he said.

“Kind boy…kind master…” Peter crawled toward Ron. “You won’t let them do it…I was your rat…I was a good pet….”

“If you made a better rat than a human, it’s not much to boast about, Peter,” Sirius sneered harshly. Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Peter’s reach. Peter turned on his knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermione’s robes. Now his face was visible and Atlas slowly remembered everything.

The form behind the white-eyed monster, short, plump and nervous-looking, biting at his nails as he muttered indiscernible words underneath his breath. The form that was soon bathed in red, just like infant Atlas had been. That form was Peter Pettigrew. It was clear to Atlas now, the white-eyed monster she had seen in the stands during her final Quidditch game hadn’t been her imagination, the monster had watched her fly with Pettigrew by its side. They had been right there. The one’s responsible for her trauma, her mother’s death, the scars down her face.

“Sweet girl…clever girl…you — you won’t let them…Help me….”

Hermione pulled her robes out of Peter’s clutching hands and backed into Atlas, only to turn and look up at her when she felt how badly the girl was trembling. The sight that met her, crushed her very soul, “Atlas…?”

“You…” Atlas’s voice shook, her entire frame visibly quivering with so much unbridled rage, so much anger, not one person in the room moved to stop her, didn’t even move to speak, not even a syllable. Even Remus and Sirius were silent, just staring at the girl as she advanced on Peter, the ratty-man sweating so heavily, patches of wet soon soaked into his clothes. “You were there…”

“N-no…what are you talking about?” Peter stuttered as pure pain morphed onto Atlas’s face, her chest clenching in warning for her to take a breath as rage etched into every line of her visage.

“You were there when my mum died!” She yelled, tossing her wand to the side and throwing a punch right at Peter’s face. He fell and Atlas made to advance, her hands going numb as the windows around them shattered and rained specks of glass upon them. Everyone winced, some shrieking and yelling out in surprise. Though the worst hadn’t yet come to pass and the entire room started to shake.

“Grab her!”

“No! No! Let go!” Atlas struggled as hands reached out to grip her form. “He was there! He was there! He helped! He was with the monster! He killed my mum!”

“Atlas! Atty! Calm down! Please!” Hermione tried, helping Harry and Remus in their pursuit to tame the girl’s rage. Sirius was motionless, his eyes reverted back to their hollow state as he stared upon a barely conscious Peter Pettigrew. 

“I don’t care! I don’t care! He killed her! She was nothing but nice to him! She was his first friend! She stuck up for him! Always!” She thrashed about, not knowing what to do with her eyes because every time she closed them the scene of her mother’s death consumed her but when they were open all she saw was Peter in front of her and rage would envelop her once again.

“Hey, hey…shhh, I know, I know…” Hermione tried again, pulling Atlas into a hug this time, the two of them sliding to the floor in a heap. Harry and Remus stared down at them, both panting heavily due to the physical exertion holding Atlas back had cost. “I’m here. Come on…breathe.”

Blood dripped from Atlas’s knuckles to the floor, some Peter’s and some her own from where the skin had broken. She wanted to rid herself of the images that plagued her whenever she closed her eyes but they wouldn’t go away because the source of them was right in front of her. 

The arguing, the Monster, Peter Pettigrew, the blast, the screams, the blood, the claws. Repeat. The arguing, the Monster, Peter Pettigrew, the blast, the screams, the blood, the claws. Repeat. Over and over, like a broken record playing a haunting but horrifyingly catchy tune.

Old books, syrup, melted chocolate and peaches, wafted up through her nose, tickling at something near the back of her brain. Atlas’s eyes, fogged with unshed tears, slowly cleared and she found her face buried into Hermione’s dirty robes. She didn’t care though, because, despite the fact, an underlying smell of dirt hung amongst it, the scent sent a soothing wave throughout her body and soon, her sobs and cries died down to sniffles and hiccups. Soon she didn’t hear and see the arguing, the Monster, Peter Pettigrew, the blast, the screams, the blood and the claws. 

Instead, she heard Hermione’s heartbeat, the sway and creaking of the Shrieking Shack, the panting of those behind her and the knowledge of her innocent father behind her echoing around in her mind. Right, her dad was there, innocent. Harry was there, her god-brother, believing in Sirius. Ron was there, still in pain but alive. Crookshanks, the little git, was purring happily on the four-poster. Remus was there, poor Uncle Remus. And then, Hermione, holding her while she cried.

Her chest unclenched and the feeling in her arms came back to her.

“Thank you…” Atlas whispered into Hermione’s shoulder and pulled away, going to wipe her tears but Hermione beat her to it, doing it for her with the material of her robes. “For this as well…”

“It’s alright,” Hermione smiled softly, standing first and helping Atlas up as well, who took in a stuttering breath and set her glare on a recovering Peter, the rat-man now on all fours and grovelling again.

He was in front of Sirius, pleading and begging, but his words fell on deaf ears as Sirius was looking at Atlas worriedly. The girl smiled assuringly, sniffling silently with Hermione’s arms around her. A position that earned a little, almost unnoticeable, smile from the father to the daughter. It was knowing and eased Atlas a little, despite the situation. 

Then, he and Remus descended upon Peter, hauling him up so he stood, back forcibly placed against the wall. Their wands were on him, both of their faces pulled into grimaces of disgust.

“You sold Lily, James and Amaya to Voldemort,” Sirius said, shaking just as much as Atlas had been. “Do you deny it?”