Confronting The Past
The four of them left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom in a heavy silence, their footsteps echoing down the empty corridor. James walked with his head low, his mind reeling from everything they had just learned. Sirius, usually the one to fill any silence with a joke or a cocky remark, was completely quiet, his face pale and drawn.
Remus stole a glance at him, his brows furrowed in thought. “Padfoot…” he started carefully.
“Don’t,” Sirius cut him off, his voice raw. “Just—don’t, Moony.”
Peter, walking a few paces behind, shifted nervously. “Maybe—maybe it’s a mistake,” he said weakly. “We don’t know all the details, right?”
James whirled around suddenly, his hazel eyes blazing. “Don’t we, though?” he spat. “I mean, it’s all there, isn’t it? I die. Lily dies. And Sirius—you’re in bloody Azkaban.”
Sirius stopped walking, staring at James with wide, hurt eyes. “Prongs, you know me. I wouldn’t—”
James clenched his fists at his sides. “I thought I did.”
Remus stepped between them, his voice calm but firm. “We can’t do this here. We need answers. Real answers.” He turned to Sirius. “And I think you know where we can get them.”
Sirius swallowed hard, and his eyes darted toward the castle doors. He didn’t have to say it—Remus already knew. The Whomping Willow.
James followed his gaze, his expression unreadable. “Right.” His voice was tight. “We’re going.”
Peter let out a nervous laugh. “Now? Are you mad? If he’s escaped from Azkaban, he could be dangerous, or—”
“Or innocent,” Remus cut in sharply, his voice carrying a quiet urgency. “We’re going.”
Without another word, they made their way across the grounds, the looming silhouette of the Whomping Willow coming into view. James barely spared a glance at it before grabbing a long branch from the ground and expertly pressing it against the knot at the base of the tree. The violent thrashing of the branches stilled, and without hesitation, they hurried into the passage below.
The tunnel smelled of damp earth and decay, the darkness pressing in around them.
Peter whispered, “I don't think this is a good idea, mates…”
“Too late to back out now,” Sirius muttered, though his usual bravado was absent.
When they reached the end of the tunnel, James pushed open the trapdoor into the Shrieking Shack. Dust swirled in the air as they stepped inside, and for a moment, everything was still. Then, from the shadows, a figure moved.
Sirius Black—older, gaunt, and wild-eyed—emerged from the darkness.
Younger Sirius stumbled back, his mouth slightly open as he took in his future self. The older Sirius looked even worse than they had imagined—his face was hollow, his eyes sunken and haunted, and his once-proud stance was hunched with the weight of something too heavy to bear.
Older Sirius’s eyes flickered across them, landing on James with an expression that was equal parts disbelief and desperation. “James,” he breathed, as if saying his name would make him real.
James’s expression hardened. “Tell me the truth, Sirius. Did you betray me?”
Older Sirius’s face twisted in anguish. “No,” he said fiercely. “I didn’t. I swear to you, James, on everything we ever were—I didn’t.”
James studied him for a long moment, searching his face for any hint of a lie. “Then who did?”
Older Sirius’s jaw clenched. “Peter,” he spat, venom lacing his voice. “Peter betrayed you.”
All eyes turned to Peter, who paled instantly. “No. No, I didn’t—I wouldn’t—”
Older Sirius took a step forward, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. “You gave them up to Voldemort. You were our Secret Keeper. You chose to betray us.”
Peter’s face contorted in horror, his eyes darting to James and the others. “It’s not true! He’s lying! You don’t know what happened—”
James’s wand was out in an instant, aimed at Peter’s chest. “Tell me the truth, Wormtail.”
Peter’s lips trembled, and for a moment, it seemed like he might deny it again. But the weight of James’s stare, the fury in Sirius’s voice, and the accusing silence from Remus made his shoulders sag in defeat.
“I—I was scared,” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes. “He would’ve killed me.”
“You were scared?” Sirius roared, his face contorted with fury. “Lily and James died because of you, and you were scared?”
James’s wand shook, his expression unreadable. “You had a choice.”
Peter’s eyes darted around, searching for an escape. “I didn’t—”
“SHUT UP!” James bellowed, his voice raw with anger and grief. “You let me die. You let Harry grow up alone.”
Sirius took another step forward, his hands trembling with rage. “You faked your own death and let me rot in Azkaban for twelve years.”
Peter whimpered. “I—I had to.”
Remus’s voice was cold, cutting through the chaos. “You didn’t have to do anything. You made your choice, Peter.”
James lowered his wand slowly, his face tired and broken. “I trusted you,” he whispered.
Peter opened his mouth, but no words came. There was nothing he could say to make it right.
Older Sirius took a deep, ragged breath. “I didn’t betray you, James. I would never.”
James closed his eyes for a long moment, then nodded. “I believe you.”
Sirius sagged in relief, his face crumbling with emotion.
James’s gaze shifted back to Peter, his face hardening again. “What do we do with him?”
Older Sirius smiled grimly, holding up his wand. “I have a few ideas.”
Remus, the voice of reason even now, shook his head. “We can’t kill him. He has to be handed over. He has to pay for what he did.”
James exhaled shakily and nodded. “Let’s take him back.”
Peter’s terrified eyes flicked between them, and with a sudden movement, he transformed into a rat and bolted toward the tunnel. Sirius swore loudly and lunged after him, but he was gone in an instant.
Older Sirius cursed under his breath. “He’ll go straight to Voldemort.”
James turned to Sirius, his jaw set in determination. “Then we need to stop him.”
Sirius nodded, his expression grim but resolute. “Together.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, James smiled, albeit weakly. “Yeah. Together.”
As they made their way back to the tunnel, James felt the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on him—but for now, they had something they hadn’t had before.
Hope.