Snape regained his composure, flicking his wand with a sharp Accio to summon it back to his hand. Lupin, battered and bruised, hauled himself up from the floor, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of Argus and Snape standing side by side in uneasy truce.
"What the—? Weren't you two just at each other's throats?" Lupin thought, rubbing his aching jaw.
"I show up, and suddenly I'm the punching bag? After that thrashing, he wants to 'get down to business'? All my bruises for nothing?"
Argus hadn't anticipated Lupin's sudden arrival either. Logically, the werewolf should have been steering clear of Snape at all costs. "Why seek me out now?"
"Professor Lupin, you..." Argus began cautiously.
"I had an appointment with Professor Snape to collect my medicine this afternoon," Lupin replied, hesitating as he pieced together the chaos. He couldn't risk spilling secrets—not with the tension crackling in the air. Snape knew about his lycanthropy, and so did Argus, but their private arrangement for Wolfsbane Potion was off-limits. The brawl he'd just witnessed left him wary; he gripped his wand tightly, eyes darting between them.
Snape shot Argus a pointed look, a silent reminder that an outsider was present. Argus obliged with a wave of his wand, sealing the door and repairing the splintered furniture and scarred walls in a swirl of magic.
"Headmaster," Argus said, turning to Snape, "weren't you keen to know where Sirius is hiding? Simple: the man before you is sheltering him."
"Argus!"
Lupin's voice cracked with alarm. "Merlin's beard—even I took a pounding from Snape. Sirius must be in bits by now."
Snape's lip curled in a sneer at Lupin. "I knew it was you. A beast remains a beast, skin-deep. You can't help but run with the pack."
"You—!" Lupin bristled, but Snape had already shifted his glare.
"Mr. Grindelwald, unless my eyes deceive me, you're in the same sorry company."
"Spot on," Argus confirmed without flinching.
"But compared to Sirius, there's something the Headmaster might find even more intriguing: what really happened back then."
Lupin swallowed hard, his face paling. His deep-seated grudge against Snape painted the man as a vengeful Death Eater, ready to drag them all down.
"One chance, and he'll have us in chains."
"Professor Lupin." Argus's tone was steady, unflinching. "You're not the only one haunted by the past. On October 31, 1981, you lost your closest friend. But remember: that same night, someone lost a brother. Another lost parents." His gaze settled on Snape. "And one lost everything."
Lupin fell silent, the weight of it sinking in, before giving a reluctant nod. "I'll tell what I know. The rest..."
"Don't dawdle," Snape snapped, his voice edged with a rare quiver.
Lupin took a breath. "Not long after Lily had Harry, whispers of the prophecy reached her ears—someone targeting the boy. She and James holed up in Godric's Hollow."
A chill rippled through Snape at the mention of Lily. Argus nodded for Lupin to press on.
"James knew the Dark Lord wouldn't stop. He opted for the Fidelius Charm to conceal them. We debated it endlessly; Sirius volunteered as Secret-Keeper."
Lupin spoke carefully now, avoiding the old Marauder nicknames to keep tempers in check. But "Sirius" still drew a flicker from Snape.
"Go on," Snape growled.
"Sirius worried the Death Eaters would peg him as the Keeper—he was too obvious. So he and James switched it to Peter, on the sly. Only the three of them and Lily knew. Not even me."
Snape's eyes narrowed.
"Then Peter turned. Joined the Dark Lord behind their backs and sold them out."
"You know the rest," Lupin continued, voice dropping. "Sirius learned the truth and hunted Peter down. Peter faked his death—blew up a Muggle street, severed his finger, and vanished as a rat. Sirius took the blame for Lily and James's murders. He surrendered without a fight, straight to Azkaban."
"Until a recent Prophet article showed Peter lurking near Harry. To shield the boy and finish the traitor, Sirius broke out."
Lupin exhaled, spent. Snape met it with a derisive smirk. "He fed you this tale?"
"Sounds like Sirius, all right."
"Mr. Grindelwald!" Snape rounded on Argus. "I never pegged you for consorting with fools. They'd swallow any drivel without proof."
"It's the truth," Lupin insisted, composure cracking. "Peter's alive—spotted in the Prophet!"
"A decorated hero, presumed dead, popping up? The Ministry would riot. Papers would erupt."
"Animagus," Lupin murmured. "Back at school, Sirius, James, and Peter used the Black family library to become Animagi. That's how Peter's dodged us all these years—and how Sirius slipped Azkaban's grip."
"No wonder," Snape said flatly, though his mind raced.
"But if that's your lot, prepare for Azkaban yourself."
"Wait—Snivellus! It's Peter, the traitor—"
"Evidence?" Snape pressed. "All words, no proof."
Argus sensed Snape's resolve cracking. The man had likely poked at this mystery for years, half-believing it, but logic demanded hard facts. Conjecture wasn't enough.
Lupin sweated now.
"If I had proof, we'd have gone to Dumbledore ages ago, cleared Sirius's name." With Snape's wand rising again, panic surged.
Snape's laugh was bitter. "No evidence? You'd stake your neck on his word alone?"
"Peter's photo was in the Prophet! His Animagus form's a rat—the Weasley boy's pet, Scabbers. Missing a toe—check it!"
"A one-toed rat? That's your 'proof'?" Snape's wand steadied on Lupin. "Azkaban suits you better."
"Stand down, Professor Snape." Argus interposed himself, voice firm. "I have the evidence."
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