"No!"

Pettigrew squealed as if Harry had just signed his death sentence, which if Sirius got his way, he had. Desperately he looked around the room, towards anyone who might offer him sympathy. The expressions he met varied from impassive to angry to fearful, but none looked especially forgiving.

He tried the original source of wrath first. "Sirius . . . you . . . you wouldn't kill an . . . an old friend, would you?"

Sirius just smiled nastily. "Why not? You did James."

It was obvious he would get no sympathy there. He next turned to Remus. "Surely . . . surely you don't believe this madness, do you, Remus? Wouldn't they have told you if they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if they were afraid I was the spy," Remus reminded him. He looked over Pettigrew at Sirius. "I assume that's why you never told me?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Remus."

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend. I did have more against me at first glance," he answered, rolling up his sleeves.

Pettigrew looked around again, and this time his eyes landed on Regulus, who had been standing a little apart from the drama, watching it. "Re— Regulus . . . you've been in his inner circle. . . ." He started. "You . . . you know what he could have done, if I hadn't given it up . . . you know he would have killed me. . . ."

A grim smile tugged at Regulus's lips again. He'd been wondering when Pettigrew would try this particular tactic. "True. But do you know why I finally left the Death Eaters and faked my death? Because I stopped Bellatrix from going after Sirius. I know what loyalty is, Pettigrew. You're going to get about as much sympathy from me as you are from anyone else here."

Pettigrew mouthed at him silently for a few moments, apparently at a loss.

"If it had been anyone but Nott, it would have been my life," Regulus reminded him softly, with ice forming on his tone. "I knew that."

He finally went after one of the kids, turning to Ron Weasley. "Ron . . . haven't I been a good rat? A good pet? You won't let them kill me, will you?"

Ron, however, was looking at him with an expression of utmost disgust. "I let you sleep in my bed!"

There would be no help from the redhead then, either. Pettigrew looked over at Hermione. "You . . . you won't let them, will you?" he asked, and his voice rose in panic an entire octave. "You don't want them to—"

But Hermione merely backed up until her shoulders hit the wall, looking torn between fear and disgust.

Regulus bit his lip. There was only one person left in the room, so Pettigrew was either going to put his foot in it or accept his fate.

He put his foot in it, turning at last to Harry. "Harry . . . you . . . you look so much like James . . . just like him. . . ."

Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus could see Sirius's face contorting with rage. If you're trying anything, you'd better make it quick, he thought.

"Harry . . . James wouldn't have wanted me killed . . . he'd have shown me mercy. . . ."

Sirius snapped. "How dare you face Harry? How dare you talk about James in front of him?" He strode over to the two. Remus followed him, perhaps at first to stop him, but instead they each seized Pettigrew by a shoulder and threw him back. He lay on the floor, looking up at them and trembling. Sirius also resembled a fault line, but his voice was surprisingly calm and cold as he growled, "You sold James and Lily to Voldemort. Do you deny it?"

"N-no. . . ." For a moment it looked like Pettigrew was going to burst into tears, but it seemed he was too terrified even for that. Regulus started towards them, not entirely sure what he was going to do.

"You should have realized that if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would," Remus said quietly, and his voice was shaking even though his body wasn't. He looked up at Sirius. "Together?"

"I think so," Sirius answered, looking behind him, where his brother stood, still not sure what to do. He held out his hand.

Regulus stared at it for a moment, then slowly took out his wand and handed it to him. "I'd still rather you didn't, but . . . I don't suppose it was ever my decision to make," he whispered.

Sirius nodded and turned back to Pettigrew. Regulus's wand wasn't precisely steady in his hands, but he nodded to Remus. "Ready?"

Hermione buried her hands in her face; Regulus bit his lip, and Ron looked uncomfortable, but none of them made any move to stop the two. Harry did. "No, wait!" he exclaimed, moving between them and Pettigrew. "You can't kill him."

This threw Sirius off like nothing else could, and Remus also looked taken aback. "Harry," Sirius said softly. "You heard him. His own hide meant more to him than your entire family."

"I know," Harry answered, glancing back over at Pettigrew. "He can go to Azkaban. He deserves it. . . . But I don't think my dad would've wanted to his two best friends to become killers . . . just for him."

Regulus smiled. "Thank you," he whispered to Harry.

Sirius hesitated. "You're the only one with the right to decide, of course, Harry . . . but, still. . . ."

"We can hand him to the dementors," Harry repeated firmly.

Remus nodded. "Very well." He made a move to get past Harry, who hesitated. "I'm just going to tie him up, I swear," he said.

After a moment, Harry nodded and got out of the way.

Cords shot out of Remus's wand and wrapped themselves around Pettigrew, who struggled weakly for a moment before falling silent.

"But if you transform, Peter, we will kill you," Remus told him, glancing over at Harry, who nodded in assent.

"All right," Remus added, looking around. His eyes landed on Ron, who was still on the bed and in obvious pain. "Regulus, you're the best healer here by far, so. . . ?"

He shook his head. "I already took a look. If it was clean I could heal it, but it's a pretty jagged break."

"Well, then, it's best we bind it up until Madam Pomfrey can take a look at it," Remus replied. He pointed his wand at Ron's leg and muttered "Ferula." The spell conjured a splint and bandages, which wrapped themselves tightly around Ron's leg, so he was able to stand up without hurting himself.

"Thanks," Ron said.

Hermione looked over at Professor Snape, nervous once again. "What about him?" she asked softly.

"Even with Peter," Remus observed, "I don't know that reviving him is the best idea. . . . Er— we can take him like this." He raised his wand again and muttered the incantation, so that Snape floated into the air like some macabre marionette.

Sirius handed Regulus back his wand and retrieved Snape's. "I've got him." From there, he nodded to Pettigrew. "Someone ought to be chained to that, so he doesn't try anything."

Remus volunteered, as did Ron. Regulus opened his mouth to tell Ron he really shouldn't be doing that with a broken leg, but the fierce look in the boy's face silenced him. He'd only be wasting his breath. "All right, then," he muttered instead. "Let's get back up to the castle and prove the world wrong, shall we?"

As if he agreed, Crookshanks sprang to the doorway and started down the creaking steps to lead the way out. Ron and Remus and Pettigrew followed him awkwardly, and Sirius floated Snape out in front of them. Then he nodded pointedly to Regulus, who took the hint and filed out. Hermione followed him, leaving Sirius and Harry to bring up the rear.

It was a weird kind of elation, knowing that he had proof enough to have convinced four more people, because at the same time Sirius felt utterly drained. He'd done more talking tonight than he'd done in years, and most of it had been rubbing salt into the old wounds of painful subjects. But at the same time, that's what it had taken to get his family and friends back, and so the pain seemed suddenly passing.

He looked over at Harry, who likewise seemed almost lost in a dream. "You know what this means?" he asked. "Turning Peter in, I mean?"

Harry nodded. "You're free."

"Well, yeah, but . . . I dunno if anyone ever told you this, Harry, but I'm your godfather and . . . well . . . I'll understand if you don't want to, but"— amazing, how it was more difficult to ask this than it had been to confront Peter— "if . . . if you ever wanted a different home. . . ."

"Harry stared at him for a moment. "What, leave the Dursleys?"

He shook his head. "I thought you'd say that," he said quickly, "I understand, of course, just thought I'd ask—"

"Are you crazy? Of course I want to leave the Dursleys!"

Sirius's face broke into a smile entirely of its own accord as his brain tried to register this information— which took longer than it should have through his shock. "You mean it?" he asked. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Harry answered, nodding enthusiastically. "D'you have a house? When can I move in?"

Regulus, who had clearly been listening in, looked back at the pair. "Technically Grimmauld's his," he announced. "He probably doesn't want it, but if you really don't want to go back to your aunt and uncle's he'll probably be happy to let you stay there while he looks for another place. At any rate he'll have to put up with me there for a few weeks."

Sirius was too busy reeling happily at this news to register Regulus's slightly dry, teasing tone of voice. "Why only a few weeks?" he wanted to know.

"Because I'm dead, Sirius. I can't stay in Britain," Regulus answered.

"You wouldn't be the only dead man coming out of the shadows tonight," Sirius pointed out.

"Yes, but Pettigrew's headed straight to Azkaban, where no former Death Eaters can murder him. I don't fancy either of those options, so as soon as my nerves are in tact again, I'm headed back to France to pick up an old pseudonym, hold down a regular job for a few years, and try to recover from the emotional scars I got spending a year in the woods with you."

"Reggie. . . ." Sirius started, but he knew Regulus was just teasing and was too tired and in too good a mood to pull off a bad imitation of insulted.

"Or maybe I'll do what Uncle Alphard would have and write a book," Regulus continued, still with that teasing grin. "A Year in the Forbidden Forest with a Convicted Murderer. . . . Sounds a bit like Thoreau. . . ."

"Does anyone have anything I can chuck at him?" Sirius asked with half a grin.

Up ahead, Crookshanks crawled out of the hole and into the darkness. Remus followed him, still with his wand pointed at Peter and followed by Ron, who was having some difficulty staying upright. He really did need to get to the hospital wing. Apparently Crookshanks had had the sense to touch the knot, because nobody was getting whacked. Sirius floated Snape out and waited while Regulus and the other two kids climbed through before coming out himself.

Hermione and Harry had started after the other four, but Regulus was staring up at the sky. "Oh, hell," he muttered.

Sirius looked up as well and bit his lip. The clouds were parting on a full moon. "You . . . I guess you did say that tonight was a full moon," he mumbled, looking over at Remus, who had gone rigid and started to shake. "Damn," he muttered.

Harry started towards Ron, but Sirius managed to catch him around the waist and hold him back. "Go, I've got it!"

Harry was still looking nervously in Remus's direction— he'd started sprouting fur now. "But—"

"I've got it," Sirius repeated. "I know how to handle him. Run!"

Hermione tugged on Harry's arm and the two started to obey. Regulus was still standing at the base of the Willow, biting his lip. Sirius shook his head— his brother could handle himself, and started after Remus, transforming as he did so. As he lunged at the nearly transformed werewolf, Peter grabbed at Remus's wand. He got hold of it, stunned Ron, and transformed.

Had Sirius's mouth not already been full of the struggling werewolf's ruff, he would have howled in frustration. He glanced over at Regulus.

"I've got Pettigrew," Regulus said quickly, starting in the direction of the rat. "You get Lupin into the Forest." He transformed.

Sirius nodded and the two canine Animagi started off in nearly opposite directions in hot pursuit of their separate prey.

Author's Note: I've been building up to the "I don't suppose it was ever my decision to make" line for most of the story; Reg had to learn that his brother's free will (even if it puts him in danger) is more important than his safety. Gah. Do you think it was realistic? And I swear this is the last cliffie . . . mostly. I'll leave what you consider the end of chapter 16 to your own descretion. Anyway, SupportSeverusSnape: To end this long, drawn out discussion of the Potions Master, the only thing I'm certain with Snape anymore is that NOTHING is black and white. Mizz Moony Luver and Jackline: My decision concerning the veil was made before I put pen to paper (or . . . er, finagers to keyboard) and I've already laid a couple of clues as to the next few years. And thanks so much to everyone else who dropped a line of encouragement; I really do appreciate it. Oh, and while I haven't gotten very far yet, I have finally started 1994, although without the crashing momentum I had at the end of 1993 chapter one is putting up quite the fight. . . . Anyway, review? Cheers! -- Loki