Hearing Harry's words, the professors exchanged glances, hesitating whether to tell Harry the following events.
They were not afraid that Harry would seek revenge against Black; the facts had already proven Harry's prowess, even hundreds of Dementors couldn't stop Harry. Do you think Black could confront him?
He doesn't have the capability, you know.
"Tell him, anyway the situation can't get any worse." Dumbledore saw the professors' hesitance.
"Alright, I'll say it then."
Professor McGonagall took two gentle breaths, said to Harry, "This matter starts with a prophecy—Voldemort learned of a prophecy about a child born at the end of July being his nemesis, so he set his sights on your family."
"You know, Dumbledore has always been tirelessly opposing You-Know-Who, and he had many able spies—one of them relayed this information to Dumbledore, who then immediately informed James and Lily." Professor McGonagall said, clutching her collar, "Dumbledore urged them to hide, telling them their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."
"You should know this spell, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, "Mr. Leme's Alchemy Room is protected by this very charm."
Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.
"A very complex spell," he said in a sharp voice, "involving the existence of the soul—this spell uses magic to hide a secret within a living person's soul, that secret is hidden within the chosen person, or say the Secret Keeper's heart, and hence can never be discovered—unless the Secret Keeper deliberately leaks it, as long as the Secret Keeper refuses to speak, You-Know-Who couldn't find the Potters even if he scoured the village where they lived for years, even if he flattened his nose on their sitting room window!"
"You mean..." Harry quickly grasped the core of the issue: "Sirius Black was my parents' Secret Keeper?"
"Yes, Harry, yes." Professor McGonagall said with a sigh, "Your father James told Dumbledore that Black would rather die than reveal their location, and said Black himself also planned to hide... Even so, Dumbledore still worried— I remember he suggested himself to be the Potters' Secret Keeper."
Harry was stunned.
"You mean, Professor Dumbledore proposed to be my dad and mom's Secret Keeper?" he asked, "Did my dad reject this?"
"Yes, your father believed in friendship." Professor McGonagall said shaking her head.
Harry took a deep breath...
"Was he a fool?" he almost roared, "Why not choose Professor Dumbledore as the Secret Keeper— could Voldemort arrest Professor Dumbledore for interrogation? Or would Professor Dumbledore betray to Voldemort's side?"
The professors present all looked away, unwilling to answer Harry's question.
When you put it that way...
It does make your father seem quite foolish.
Harry found it hard to accept—but these things were said by the professors, and he had to accept this fact.
It seems that Professor Snape was right, Dad has always been that kind of person—arrogant, conceited, had he been more sensible, perhaps Mom wouldn't have died.
"There was always a spy on our side." Professor Flitwick said shrilly, "He had been informing You-Know-Who, telling him our movements—we initially wondered who this person was, but the truth eventually came out."
"Yes, less than a week after the Fidelius Charm was cast—" Professor Sprout said with a sigh, "Black betrayed them, and Voldemort found the Potters' hiding place in Godric's Hollow and killed them—afterwards, you know the rest, Harry."
"He fumbled with you, lost his magic, became extremely weak, and had to flee." Professor McGonagall added, "This left Black with nowhere to go, he had just exposed his traitorous identity, and then his master fell, so he had no choice but to run for his life—"
Harry sat in the chair, silent.
"Oh, if only we could have caught him then," Professor McGonagall said painfully, "It wasn't us who found him, but Peter Pettigrew—another friend of Potter... he must have been grieving madly, knowing Black was the Potters' Secret Keeper, so he went after Black himself."
Peter Pettigrew?
Harry lifted his head from silence, he felt that name sounded familiar, as though he had heard it somewhere.
Where was it exactly? He wondered.
"Peter Pettigrew? I remember him..." Professor Flitwick said sharply, "That chubby little boy, always trailing behind Potter and Black, silent and quiet, looking like a very honest child..."
"He worshipped Potter and Black as heroes," Professor McGonagall's voice turned hoarse, as if she had a cold, "If you talk about intelligence, Peter Pettigrew seemed completely unlikely to be playing with Potter and Black— you know, this child's quite dull, I often was quite harsh with him... but now, you can imagine how—how regretful I am..."
Saying this, Professor McGonagall's tears streamed down.
She reached to wipe her tears, and sobbed twice.