"Scabbers! Scabbers!"
The shout was Ron's, eight seconds into Kevin releasing the rat to demonstrate something, during which time the rat had immediately bolted.
Kevin watched it go. That had been his own fault.
"Ron — the Whomping Willow —" Harry yelled.
Ron wasn't listening. He was too close, almost had him, fingers inches from the tail —
Kevin cast a shield charm around Ron as the black wolfhound came out of nowhere.
It hit the shield at full sprint and rebounded, shaking its head.
Kevin was already moving.
"Sirius!" he called after it. "Wait — we know about Peter —"
The dog had locked onto Scabbers, then onto Kevin's face, then made the decision of something that had been waiting too long and dove under the Whomping Willow.
The tree erupted. Kevin grabbed Ron and pulled him clear of the first swing. A branch like a battering ram came down where they'd been standing.
"Ron — into the tunnel —" Kevin shoved him toward the opening. Ron went in with a yell.
Harry was next. Kevin grabbed him, ran through a gap between two swinging branches, and threw him in after. Harry's protest was cut off by the tunnel floor.
Kevin caught Hermione's hand, wove through the last two branches — one caught his shoulder, hard enough to stagger him — and they dropped into the tunnel together.
Dark. Earth smell. The tree's impact was distant rumbling above.
"Kevin, you put her first," Ron said, from somewhere ahead, voice muffled and indignant.
"Sirius would have got to you without the shield," Kevin said. "He wasn't going for me. He was going for the rat." He paused. "Are you hurt?"
"Just my dignity."
"That was already compromised." Kevin helped Hermione up. "Everyone moving? Let's go."
Scabbers was still squirming in Ron's grip. Kevin reached over and took him. Iron hold, no discussion.
They moved through the tunnel.
Outside, Professor Lupin had been in his office looking at the grounds when the Whomping Willow erupted. One look at the entrance to that particular tunnel and he understood.
He dropped his cup and ran.
In Dumbledore's office, Snape had seen it from the window. He moved faster.
The tunnel opened into a room full of old furniture and serious dust. One whiff and it got into your lungs. Broken piano. Mouldy tapestries.
"Shrieking Shack," Harry said. He'd always wondered about this place.
Kevin took point with his crowbar and went up the stairs. The dust showed footprints — clear, recent. He followed them to a room with a collapsed four-poster and a battered sofa.
On the sofa sat a gaunt man in ruined robes. Wild dark hair, hollow eyes, a beard that looked like it had happened to him rather than been grown deliberately. Thin — the kind of thin that said years, not weeks.
He looked at them. At Kevin's hand. His hollow face cracked into a grin.
"Welcome, Harry. Harry's friends." His eyes stayed on Kevin's closed fist. "And you, Peter. Long time no see. Heh."
Harry stared at the man. "You're Sirius Black."
Sirius's expression shifted as Harry stepped closer. The wild glee softened into something almost helpless. He looked at Harry's face the way you look at something you weren't sure you'd ever see again.
"Oh, Harry." His hand shook as he reached out. "You look so much like your father. But the eyes are your mother's."
His fingers touched Harry's cheek, very lightly.
It was the touch of someone who had been carrying something heavy for twelve years and had just set it down.
Harry didn't pull back. He felt the warmth of it, something genuine beneath the gaunt face and the ruined clothes. He didn't know this man. But he recognised the way the man looked at him.
Bang.
The door. Lupin burst through with his wand up, eyes scanning — Sirius leaning toward Kevin, Sirius's hands close —
"Sirius. Get away from —"
"Remus." Sirius laughed, sudden and bright, like something had been released. "Still looking like you haven't slept in a week. Haha!"
"Ha. At least a thousand times better than you." Lupin's wand came down. He crossed the room in four strides and pulled Sirius into a hug.
"I found him, Remus. I found him." Sirius's voice was cracking slightly.
"Who? Sirius — these children need to hear what happened. Tell them."
Lupin held him, and Sirius pulled back enough to look at Kevin's hand.
"Peter Pettigrew. That rat. We switched secretly — I was going to be the decoy. Peter became the Secret-Keeper. Even Dumbledore didn't know. Then he sold James and Lily to Voldemort and killed twelve Muggles to frame me and chopped off his own finger and faked his death —"
The rat in Kevin's grip went absolutely frantic. Scratching, twisting, biting at his fingers. Nothing worked.
"Peter!" Sirius put his face right next to Kevin's fist, gleeful and furious at once. "Look at you. Pathetic. Twelve years hiding as a rat —"
"Peter was an Animagus?" Lupin had gone very still.
"Rat Animagus. Exactly. He hid in Azkaban-range, stayed close enough to know things, kept himself safe in plain sight —"
The door came down.
"Expelliarmus! Stupefy!"
Snape had arrived. Lupin's wand flew. Sirius went across the room into the wall and hit it hard.
From Snape's perspective: Sirius leaning over a child. Lupin armed, standing over Sirius. Pattern recognised. He stepped in front of Kevin without hesitation.
"Mr Lupin," Snape said. "At last."
"Severus — wait. You've misread the room —"
"Professor Snape." Kevin started.
Harry moved first. He'd been standing three feet away, wand up, and Snape had never been looking at him.
"Expelliarmus."
Snape's wand flew. Lupin caught it out of the air on instinct, wand in each hand, one eyebrow raised.
A full second of silence.
Snape turned his head. He looked at Harry — really looked at him — with an expression that had not yet finished becoming what it was going to be.
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