Cassandra's Weather Charm ultimately paled in comparison to Tom's, whose spells truly summoned chaos. However, Cassandra was limited by her insufficient magical power, and her attempts proved paltry against a wizard of Sirius's caliber. After a brief back-and-forth, Sirius regained his bearings, dodging her spells with stubborn resolve. But the inherently wicked Ron Weasley zeroed in on this opening.
"Got you now, Sirius!"
Ron, having somehow flanked Sirius, launched himself forward. He seized the broken wand, aiming it squarely at Sirius's backside. After all, the wand was useless now, and Harry had promised to buy him a new one.
"...Gurgle~"
Ouch… searing pain! Followed by an unspeakable, tingling sensation. Sirius clamped his mouth shut, but a tiny whimper escaped.
"Still got half left, watch this…"
"Enough!!!"
Ron was poised to make the most of the remaining piece of wand, but the "incapacitated" Sirius had already kicked things into "Second Stage." Seeing the dire situation, Ron sprinted towards Harry, only slowing once he reached his side.
Sirius now stood completely blackened, sporting a distinctive afro, black smoke billowing from his mouth with each breath, his legs trembling slightly. He was quite a sorry sight; even Lupin's "beggar's outfit," which Malfoy had so eloquently described upon their arrival at Hogwarts, looked better than this.
"Hehehe..."
Sirius's bloodshot eyes fixed on the wicked redhead. "Had your fun, did you, kids? Let's go for round two."
Harry shook his head. "No, I'm done fighting."
"..."
Sirius stood motionless and silent. Malfoy suddenly felt that Sirius's face, compared with his previous all-black appearance, now seemed more of a dark, reddish-black.
Cassandra raised her wand again, worried that Sirius might take a page from Ron's book and engage in some underhanded tactics himself. She remained vigilant. Fortunately, a familiar figure appeared in the distance.
"Professor Lupin?!" Harry was surprised to see Lupin approaching from the direction of the castle.
"Harry, what… what's with that outfit?"
Seeing Harry's face paired with such an "eye-catching" ensemble, Lupin felt as if his old friend James had suddenly decided to cross-dress. Subconsciously, he glanced sideways. "And Malfoy, you too?"
"..."
Harry and Malfoy exchanged an awkward glance, and then their borrowed clothes dissolved into starlight. Of course, their original garments remained underneath.
"..."
After a moment of silence, Lupin, not pushing them further, turned his attention to Sirius. As longtime friends, they understood each other implicitly. Anger, resentment, pain… and a glimmer of relief. That's what Lupin saw in Sirius.
Although Lupin could roughly deduce what had transpired from his friend's battered state, he felt compelled to help. After all, even if Sirius got serious, what could he do? Harry, his best friend's orphaned son and his own godson; the Malfoys, notorious Dark Lord sycophants now spending their fortune promoting the Dark Lord's greatness; and, of course, Cassandra, the Dark Lord's favored apprentice.
So all that's left is to bully Ron, right?
What Lupin didn't know was that Sirius most wanted to "bully" Ron.
That didn't matter now. Tom had summoned Lupin, and while he hadn't revealed everything, Lupin had pieced together the gist of the situation. All that remained was for Sirius to face the truth.
The result was self-evident, just as Harry and the others had predicted: The traitor wasn't Sirius Black, but Peter Pettigrew!
They gathered around the fat rat, who was busily working away. Seeing the scene, Lupin felt a pang of sympathy. Although Peter Pettigrew was as wretched as could be, Sirius had no intention of letting him off the hook. Remembering his lost years, Sirius snatched up Peter Pettigrew and began walking towards the Forbidden Forest.
"Wait!"
Sirius stopped, hearing the voice behind him. Harry walked up to Sirius, meeting his godfather face-to-face for the first time. Sirius felt the same; his previous encounters with Harry had only been fleeting glimpses.
"He can't die yet."
"Why, Harry?"
"If he dies, no one can clear your name."
"…"
Sirius suddenly decided that everything he had suffered that night wasn't too bad after all… Except for that damned red-haired brat, of course. For the first time in years, a warm feeling surged through him. Even his hatred for Peter Pettigrew faded momentarily for Harry's sake.
He was about to speak when he noticed a hand on Harry's shoulder. How? When?! He turned to see an exceptionally handsome young man. When their eyes met, he felt as if he had fallen into an icy chasm.
Sensing something amiss, Harry turned, his face lighting up. "Sir!"
Smiling, Tom patted Harry's shoulder but didn't reply. Instead, he produced the Elder Wand.
"Although simply informing Fudge would suffice, if you wish to prove something to this man in this manner…" The Elder Wand pointed at the fat rat in Sirius's hand, gently extracting a wisp of ethereal white silk. "Then I shall lend you my aid."
Tom's expression was gentle, but Sirius stared blankly, not with fear, not with terror, but with disbelief. It was unbelievable on every level—unbelievably powerful, unbelievably mysterious, even the man's actions seemed unreal.
He's not the Dark Lord? It can't be! That feeling… He really is the Dark Lord! But why…?
His mind reeled. It wasn't until Lupin prodded him that Sirius snapped out of his daze and resumed his trek toward the Forbidden Forest.
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