"Are you threatening me?" Snape's sullen eyes flickered with a hint of anger, as though he couldn't believe Augustus would speak so bluntly, showing no regard for him at all.
Augustus sighed lightly. "Professor, don't you think there are too many inconsistencies in this case? Let's set aside why Sirius Black would blow up an entire street simply to kill Peter Pettigrew when he could have assassinated him quietly without alerting anyone. I believe he had the skill to do so. Now consider this—after escaping from Azkaban, why would he travel so far to Hogwarts just to kill a rat? With your intellect, you should know better than to act so rashly. At its root, you are blinded by the hatred of the past, a hatred born from a mere schoolboy prank. Could such a farce justify ruining someone's life, even ending it?"
"A farce?" Snape sneered, his lips curling in disdain. "You call a premeditated murder attempt a farce? Yes, I never liked James Potter, but before their actions, it was merely annoyance. If it weren't for Black's so-called prank, I wouldn't harbor such hatred for someone to this degree. As for your so-called inconsistencies, they're irrelevant. Who cares about a murderer's motivations? Their actions, as illogical as they seem, perfectly align with the twisted minds of such degenerates."
"That prank is still haunting you, Severus," Black growled. "But if that boy takes the rat back to the castle," he nodded toward Ron, "I'll go with you quietly—"
"To the castle?" Snape interrupted with a strange smirk. "There's no need to go that far. As soon as I step outside the Whomping Willow, I'll summon the Dementors. They'll be delighted to see you, Black—so delighted they might give you a little kiss."
"You're pathetic!" Harry yelled. "Just because they teased you when you were students, you won't even listen to them—"
"Silence! Don't you dare speak to me like that!" Snape shouted, looking more deranged. "Like father, like son, Potter! I just saved your life, and you should be on your knees thanking me. If he had killed you, you'd have deserved it—just as your father deserved to die: arrogant and foolish, blind to Black's treachery. Now step aside, or I'll make you step aside. Move, Potter!"
Augustus gestured for Harry and his friends to step back. "If you're so eager to report this, Professor, then by all means, go ahead. Minister Fudge happens to be nearby. And if it's not too much trouble, you might as well summon the Dementors here. However, I'm involved now, and I will see this investigation through to the truth. I won't allow anyone to disrupt these proceedings—not the Minister, not the Dementors, and certainly not you. If you still don't grasp your situation, let me make it clear: as long as I'm here, the decision of who goes to Azkaban will be mine. And rest assured, the real culprit will face justice."
Snape's expression flickered uncertainly. For the first time, he seemed to realize the situation was beyond his control. Indeed, whether he summoned the Dementors or called for Fudge, neither option would faze Augustus, his talented former student. Augustus's power was undeniable; his command over legions of Dementor wraiths was unmatched, and his family's influence—the Julius family, the foremost in the wizarding world—rendered even Fudge nearly powerless. Snape exhaled slowly, his face settling into a composed mask.
"If Augustus insists on presiding over this matter," Snape said coolly, "I won't interfere. Proceed. I'll merely observe. Let's see if this rat truly is Peter Pettigrew, who supposedly died over a decade ago."
Lupin gave Augustus a grateful glance. "Thank you, Augustus, for speaking up for us. You've given us a chance to explain ourselves."
"Now's the time to present some evidence," Black said. "You, kid, hand Peter over. Now."
Snape watched Black coldly, sneering. "What's this? Planning to kill the rat and claim it was Pettigrew afterward? Convenient, isn't it—no evidence left?"
Ron clutched Scabbers tighter to his chest. "Don't touch him," he said weakly. "Are you seriously saying you broke out of Azkaban just to go after Scabbers? I mean..." He glanced at Harry and Hermione, searching for support. "Sure, let's say Peter Pettigrew can turn into a rat—but there are thousands of rats in the world! How could he know which one?"
"That's a fair question," Lupin said, turning to Black with a slight frown. "How did you know where to find him?"
"Exactly as I asked before," Augustus said, nodding. "How did you discover Pettigrew had been hiding as a rat in Ron's family for twelve years? It's highly unusual."
Black reached into his robe with a claw-like hand and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it out and held it up for all to see: a photograph of the Weasley family from The Daily Prophet, taken the previous summer. On Ron's shoulder was Scabbers.
"So, it was Scabbers' missing toe and your familiarity with him that tipped you off?" Augustus asked, his tone understanding.
"Exactly," Black said. "He's missing a toe."
Snape's gaze flicked to Scabbers on Ron's shoulder. For the first time, his face showed a trace of surprise, and his eyes seemed to contemplate deeply.
"And so what?" Ron said stubbornly.
"Did you hear that, Ron?" Lupin asked gently. "The largest piece of Pettigrew's supposed remains was his finger."
"And a rat living twelve years—you know what that means?" Lupin added, his voice calm as if discussing an academic topic.
Augustus interjected with another crucial point. "Regardless of whether or not he is Pettigrew, one thing is undeniable: Black betrayed the Potters. As their Secret-Keeper under the Fidelius Charm, he must have revealed their location to Voldemort. Otherwise, how else could Voldemort have found and killed them?"
Harry's eyes turned cold at these words, and the room fell into a heavy silence.
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