Ch 128
"What's your name?"
"Sirius Orion Black."
"What was your purpose in coming to Hogwarts?"
"To avenge the Potters—and to kill the traitor."
"Who is the traitor?"
"Peter Pettigrew."
Hermione's breath caught. She staggered back a step, her foot coming down hard on Crookshanks's fluffy tail. The big ginger cat yowled in protest and sprang aside.
"Why would you say he is the traitor?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking despite her effort to steady it. "Everyone says you were the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Everyone says you betrayed them."
"The original plan was for me to be the Secret-Keeper," Sirius answered flatly. "But at the last moment, it was changed to Peter Pettigrew—at my suggestion. I thought it was perfect. Brilliant, even. Voldemort would hunt me, not Peter. I never imagined that Peter would betray James and Lily."
His face remained unnaturally blank, yet tears streamed silently down his cheeks.
Hermione's heart lurched.
She had tested the effects of the truth serum on herself. Under its influence, emotions dulled, reactions flattened. And yet Sirius Black was crying.
Her original plan—to stall for time—had succeeded far beyond anything she expected. The fugitive had swallowed the potion without hesitation. And worse—far worse—his answers rang with a truth she hadn't been prepared to hear.
"Then… what really happened on the street that night?" Hermione pressed on, forcing herself to remain focused. "If you're innocent, why didn't you seek justice? Why didn't you ask Headmaster Dumbledore for help? After Voldemort fell, even some Death Eaters cleared their names. Why were you sent to Azkaban for twelve years without a trial?"
"I cornered Peter," Sirius replied. "He was screaming so loudly the whole street heard him—shouting that I had betrayed James and Lily. Before I could curse him, he detonated the street with a spell he'd been hiding. Everyone within twenty feet died. Then he escaped into the sewers… with the other rats."
He paused, then added quietly, "As for Azkaban… I believed I deserved it. I wasn't the traitor—but I did suggest the switch. James and Lily died because of that. Letting the real culprit escape was my punishment."
Hermione felt hollow.
If this was true, it was senseless—self-punishment that spared the guilty and crushed the innocent. And if Sirius had spoken earlier, Harry's life might have been unimaginably different.
She searched her memory again. Sirius Black had indeed been imprisoned without trial.
"Then why were you locked in a cage?" Hermione asked, shaking her head to clear it. This was no longer about delay. She needed answers—clear ones. "Why here?"
"I—" Sirius began, then faltered.
His eyes sharpened. Awareness returned.
He stared at Hermione as though seeing her for the first time. "Merlin… I was answering like an observer. That potion is terrifying. The Ministry once debated using it on me. They never reached a decision." He swallowed. "I never imagined I'd face it like this."
Then, quietly, "Can you trust me now, Harry's friend?"
Hermione's mind raced.
She replayed every detail—his willingness to drink the potion, Crookshanks's insistence, the absence of force. If Sirius wanted Harry, he could have stunned her and taken her hostage outright. He hadn't.
And Peter Pettigrew's story… it had never quite made sense. An Animagus who "forgot" how to change back? The spell didn't work that way.
More than anything, Hermione felt it—an instinctive contrast. Sirius's raw grief versus Peter's practiced performance.
"Not completely," she said at last. "But I'm willing to verify the truth with you."
Sirius nodded once. "Confront him face to face. He won't dare. He's drunk on his role as a hero."
He moved toward a nearby desk and began rifling through it.
"Mr. Black," Hermione said firmly. "We don't have time—and I still have one unanswered question. Why were you in that cage? If this is all true, then that cage means something. It could be a trap. A conspiracy."
Sirius paused, fingers resting on an old, blank parchment. For a moment, his expression turned distant—almost nostalgic.
"Please," Hermione insisted. "Answer me. Even without the potion, this matters."
He sighed. "Fine. I was careless. I fell into the hands of a student—and a caretaker. Embarrassing, really."
His lips twitched into a sharp, feral grin.
"I've found him," Sirius said suddenly, pointing to a tiny inked dot on a parchment spread across the desk—a map alive with shifting marks. His hands trembled with barely restrained fury. "I know where Pettigrew is."
Hermione stepped in front of him at once, arms spread. "You can't just rush out. Do you know how many Aurors are surrounding the school? Whether that map is real or not, charging in like this will only end with you captured—or killed."
She met his gaze, unwavering. "The only sensible thing is to find Professor Dumbledore. He'll handle this."
Even as she said it, her stomach dropped.
Professor Dumbledore wasn't at Hogwarts.
The one person she trusted completely—the one person who could resolve everything—was gone.