Chapter 537: A Midnight Secret
"I know he's coming," Sean said softly, his gaze passing over Crookshanks's
thick ginger fur.
The cat let out a low, vibrating purr, looking at Sean with an expression that
suggested it understood every word.
"You've done well, Crookshanks, but the time isn't right yet. Where is he? Take
me to him, if you please."
Sean set the cat down on the grass. As if sharing a telepathic link with the
boy, the massive ginger cat immediately began to lead the way. Its bottle-brush
tail swayed rhythmically as it navigated the shadows outside the castle walls.
It was twilight now. Sean stepped across the damp, emerald-green grass, feeling
the thin Highland mist beginning to rise from the Great Lake. In a secluded
corner, under the shadow of the damp, moss-covered castle walls, Crookshanks
stopped. He let out a sharp chirp and leaped toward a dense cluster of bushes.
A familiar dark silhouette emerged from the gloom, looking almost sheepish.
"You're being far too impatient, Mr. Black," Sean said, his voice reaching the
large black dog.
A startling transformation occurred. The dog leaped forward, and in mid-air, its
form shifted and stretched. A man landed on the grass. His matted black hair
fell past his elbows, and his frame was so skeletal he looked like a walking
corpse—save for the piercing, feverish light in his sunken eyes.
If any other wizard had stumbled upon this scene, they would have shrieked in
terror. Before them stood the most wanted man in Great Britain: Sirius Black.
"I... I'm sorry. I just..." Sirius didn't meet Sean's eyes. He looked up at the
towering spires of Hogwarts with a haunted expression. The castle was peaceful
in the fading light. If it weren't for the presence of the loathsome traitor
near Harry, Sirius would never have dreamed of disturbing its sanctuary.
"You want to kill him more than you want to breathe, don't you?" Sean asked,
voicing Sirius's deepest urge.
Sean knew Sirius would eventually break into the castle, but even he was
surprised the man had come to scout the perimeter so soon. It was clear Sirius
was planning a precision strike against the rat.
"You know... I've realized that you know everything," Sirius said respectfully,
pulling his gaze back to the dark stone wall. "I haven't ruined your plans, have
I, sir?"
"You worry too much," Sean replied calmly.
Sirius looked up. In those deep emerald eyes, he saw only a vast, unshakable
ocean of certainty.
"I should have known," Sirius whispered, a faint smile touching his cracked
lips. In his mind, there was no one capable of disrupting the designs of a man
who moved as if he were reading the script of fate.
"It is not yet the hour for his end," Sean continued.
"Then when...?" Sirius asked, his voice tight with suppressed rage.
"You and I both know, Mr. Black, that Peter Pettigrew is not the root of all
this," Sean said. He hadn't intended to reveal more, but he couldn't leave
Sirius to drown in this agonizing confusion.
"I know. I know that better than anyone, sir. That is the war we have yet to
win." Sirius's face was set in a look of terrifying resolve.
"The future is fluid, sir. No wizard can ensure that destiny stays its
course..." Sean thought of Trelawney's true prophecy: 'He remains cunning.' "We
need to know more."
"What do you mean?" Sirius blinked.
"He will find him," Sean revealed.
Sirius's eyelids flickered. His throat worked as he swallowed hard. "We have to
stop him, sir... we can't let him reach—"
"No, sir. The truly terrifying thing is the unknown. We cannot defend against
what we cannot see," Sean said, lowering his gaze.
Was it better to let Voldemort return on his own terms, or to send Pettigrew to
Azkaban immediately? Sean had made his choice long ago. Rather than let
Voldemort remain a hidden viper in the shadows, waiting for a chance to
dismantle the castle from within, Sean preferred a future he could predict.
Ultimately, everything rested on the weight of individual magical power.
If someone existed who was strong enough to defeat and truly kill Voldemort,
then the elaborate, decades-long "plans" and sacrifices—like those Dumbledore
had orchestrated in the original timeline—would be unnecessary. And if no such
person existed, no plan would save them.
Sean had already burned his bridges. Harry was no longer a Horcrux; the path
where Harry used "a power Voldemort did not understand" to win was no longer
guaranteed.
From now on, the one who would have to face the Dark Lord...
Sean gazed up at the night sky. The silent stars were scattered across the black
canvas of the universe.
"When he returns, we will strip him of his anchors. I will defeat him. And then,
I will kill him," Sean stated.
There was a depth of conviction in his eyes that Sirius couldn't begin to
fathom. Sirius found himself unable to look the boy in the eye, feeling as
though he were standing before a deity.
"Until then, I ask for your patience."
As Sean turned to leave, Sirius called out in a desperate whisper. "But sir...
Peter? Are we just going to let him...?"
"Oh, that won't be a problem," Sean said, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
"Peter will help us find him. And believe me, Peter will become very...
compliant."
"How?" Sirius asked, intrigued.
"The Goblins possess the oldest, most binding contracts in magical history,"
Sean said, stating it as a simple fact.
Sirius felt a sudden, massive weight lift from his chest. If they could turn
Pettigrew into a double agent, they would always know where the Dark Lord was.
As for Peter's life... believe him, no one wanted to see that rat suffer and die
more than Sirius Black.
"You should leave now," Sean reminded him. "Most of the school won't recognize
you, but our new Defense Professor is a different matter."
"Lupin... he's..." Sirius started to ask, but the words died in his throat. His
face paled, and his lip twitched, revealing his yellowed teeth.
"Do not judge him too harshly, Mr. Black," Sean whispered.
"I... I suppose..."
Sirius looked away. After the explosion twelve years ago, everyone—literally
everyone—believed he had betrayed James and Lily. But the truth? Had anyone
bothered to ask him, they would have known.
Would he have refused to tell Remus, his best friend? Would he have hidden the
truth from Dumbledore? They had chosen to believe in his betrayal without
question. He couldn't blame them, but the wound still bled.
"On that night, you weren't the only one who lost everything, sir," Sean said,
looking into the darkness. A poorly dressed figure was emerging from the mist.
"Good evening, Moony," Sean called out.
Lupin stopped dead, staring at Sean in shock. "Good evening, Mr. Green. How...
how do you know that name?"
But then he saw the dark-haired man standing beside the boy. Lupin's expression
turned deadly serious. He lunged forward, grabbing Sean and shoving him behind
his back while drawing his wand in one fluid motion.
"So you are here, Sirius..." Lupin said, his voice mild but vibrating with
tension.
"Moony... are you here to catch me?" Sirius let out an unexpected, hollow laugh.
"Crookshanks is a very clever cat. He found me," Lupin told Sean, though his
eyes never left Sirius. He even spared a glance for the ginger cat sitting on
Sean's shoulder. "Now, Mr. Green, please... get back to the castle."
"Oh, come off it, Moony," Sirius sneered with a touch of his old madness. "Do
you really think Mr. Green needs protection from the likes of us?"
"I want you away from him, Padfoot," Lupin growled, a dangerous smile touching
his lips.
If there was one person in this castle who could not be allowed to come to harm,
it was Sean Green. Dumbledore had been very clear: the boy was their only hope.
Beyond that, Lupin knew that if the young wizard were hurt, one man would go
scorched-earth on the entire world: Severus Snape.
"Enough, Moony," Sirius said, the madness fading. He leaned against a tree root,
his eyes clouded with a sudden, weary grief. "If you're going to catch me, let's
see if you've still got the touch."
"It's time you told him, Mr. Black," Sean interrupted.
Lupin watched, utterly stunned, as the most feared fugitive in the
world—Voldemort's supposed right hand—immediately stopped his posturing and
bowed his head.
"As you wish, sir," Sirius said with total reverence.
Lupin felt as though his world had been turned upside down. He didn't recognize
this Sean Green anymore.
"Go on, Remus. Listen to him. I suspect you've had your own doubts for twelve
years," Sean added.
"Moony..." Sirius rasped.
The madness was gone, replaced by a raw, naked sorrow. Some say the world is
vast, too large to see in a lifetime. Others say it is tiny, consisting only of
the ground beneath your feet and a handful of friends. If they love you, the
world is kind. If they don't believe you...
Sirius reached into his robes and pulled out a crumpled, yellowed piece of
newspaper. He smoothed it out and held it up. It was the photo of the Weasleys
from last summer. On Ron's shoulder sat Scabbers.
"Look at the rat, Moony. Tell me what you see."
Lupin took the photo cautiously. "Great heavens..." He looked from the rat in
the photo to Sirius. "The front paw..."
"He's missing a toe," Sirius said.
"Of course," Lupin whispered, the realization hitting him like a physical blow.
"So simple... so clever... he cut it off himself?"
"Just before he transformed," Sirius confirmed. "I cornered him, and he screamed
for the whole street to hear that I was the one who sold out James and Lily.
Before I could hex him, he blew up the street with a wand behind his back,
killing everyone within twenty feet—then he dove into the sewer with the other
rats."
"The biggest bit of him they ever found was a finger," Lupin finished for him.
He looked at Sean, his voice trembling. "Do you know how long he has been with
that family?"
"Ron says he's been around for twelve years," Sean said.
"Twelve years..." Lupin breathed. "How could a common rat live that long?"
Sirius remained silent until he saw Lupin's eyes begin to redden. "Are you going
to tell me you haven't been suspecting the truth all this time?"
"I don't think I have the right to say that..." Lupin's throat felt tight.
On that night, Harry lost everything. Sirius lost everything. And Remus? His
world had been small, too—consisting of the only four people who didn't care
that he was a monster. Two dead, one a traitor, one in Azkaban. That was the
reality he had lived with.
How could anyone expect a broken soul to be rational and calm in the face of
that? Rain cannot wash away tears, and time cannot mend a heart that has been
shattered into so many pieces.
"I forgive you, old friend," Sirius said, seeing Lupin's distress. "I'm sorry,
too. I thought you were the spy. Back then... we didn't know who to trust."
"Forgive me, Remus," Sirius added.
"Don't, Padfoot... old friend..." Lupin's expression was a mask of conflicting
joy and pain. He began to roll up his sleeves. "Forgive me for believing it was
you."
"Of course," Sirius said, a genuine smile finally crossing his gaunt face. He
rolled up his own sleeves. "I'm going to need your help, Moony."
"To kill him?" Lupin asked. He glanced at Sean, hesitant to let the boy hear
more. Even if Sean knew everything, Lupin felt a need to preserve the boy's
innocence.
"No, I'm afraid not," Sirius said, breaking the tension.
Lupin's smile froze. "What?"
"We need to talk, old friend," Sirius said, his voice full of a new, grand
purpose. "We need to talk about... the Greater Plan."
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