Harry stepped forward.
"I'm still not sure I believe you," he said, tersely.
"Then it's time we offered you some proof," said Black, still watching the way Remus was looking at Amelia. "You boy – give me Peter. Now." His voice suggested that he had been used to commanding respect.
Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest.
"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say you broke out of Azkaban just to get your hands on Scabbers? I mean…" he looked up at Harry, Hermione and Amelia for support. "Ok, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat – there are millions of rats – how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"
"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," said Lupin, turning to Black and frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"
Black put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes – Amelia's hand tightened around her wand – and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held it out to show the others.
It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in this Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.
"How did you get this?" asked Remus, thunderstruck.
"Fudge," said Black. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page… on this boy's shoulder… I knew him at once… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts… to where Harry was…"
"My God," said Remus softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "His front paw…"
"What about it?" said Ron defiantly.
"He's got a toe missing," said Black.
"Of course," Remus breathed, and Amelia felt her resolve begin to slip, "so simple… so brilliant… He cut it off himself?"
"Just before he transformed," said Black. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself – and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…"
"The biggest bit of Peter they could find was his finger…" Amelia said softly, and lowered her wand.
"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right –"
"Twelve years, in fact," said Lupin. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"
"We – we've been taking good care of him!"
"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" said Lupin. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again…"
"He's been scared of that mad cat!" said Ron, nodding towards Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.
"This cat isn't mad," said Black hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks's fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognised Peter for what he was straight away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was awhile before he trusted me. Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me…"
"What do you mean?" breathed Hermione.
"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't… so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me… As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table…"
Amelia's brain was sagging under the weight of what she was hearing. It seemed absurd, and yet… Poor Neville…
"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it… this cat – Crookshanks, did you call him? – told me Peter had left blood on the sheets… I suppose he bit himself… well faking his own death had worked once…"
"And why did he fake his own death?" Harry said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"
Amelia raised her wand again; "Harry! Stay where you are!" she hissed.
"Harry, don't you see?" said Remus hurriedly. "All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down – but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father – Sirius tracked Peter down –"
"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP! HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"
He was pointing at Black, who shook his head slowly; his sunken eyes were suddenly over-bright.
"Harry – I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me… I'm to blame, I know it… The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right – I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away – and when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies – I realised what Peter must have done. What I'd done."
His voice broke and he turned away. Amelia had the sudden urge to give him a hug, but she resisted… he was still the Enemy, after all.
"Enough of this," said Remus, and there was a steely note in his voice that they'd never heard before; it struck Amelia that this was the Remus that had seen the castle's ample defences put to good use, a decade ago.
"Wait," she said, and he paused, still willing to defer to her. "Mr Black," she addressed the broken man before her, "I am a reader. Do you know what that means?" Behind her, Ron gave a small gasp.
Black looked up at her, "You see to the truth of things."
She nodded and held out her free hand.
"Show me," she said simply.
He looked up at Remus, who nodded tersely, before taking her hand. He was desperately thin and his skin felt like paper beneath her fingers; Amelia immediately thought of the instructional skeletons they'd worked with in bone lab at university. She closed her eyes.
There was an intense rush of sound; all at once, she saw Remus and his friends transform; saw them attending Lily and James's wedding, Remus and Sirius dancing like lunatics at the reception; saw them playing with a tiny, unblemished Harry. She heard Pettigrew warning Sirius not to trust Remus as he'd always loved Lily, felt the accompanying shiver of suspicion that he'd felt. She saw Sirius convincing James that Peter would make an excellent Secret-Keeper; saw Sirius's frantic ride to Godric's Hollow that fateful night; saw the cottage in ruins, flowers strewn around the yard; saw Lily and James, pale and destroyed in the cold night air. Felt the howl of despair escape her own lips as it had pushed through his, so many years ago.
As she felt Hermione's worried hand on her back and heard Remus call her name (along with a chorus of "Professor!" from behind her), she saw Hagrid bend and pluck an infant from the rubble. The baby gurgled and laughed as the half-giant held him, and grasped Sirius's finger as he made to check on him.
Blinking, she let go of Sirius's hand and felt the tears streaming down her face.
"I am so very, very sorry," she said, to the man before her. Turning to Harry she continued, wetly, "You smiled at Hagrid when he found you, you know, and laughed…" he stared back at her across the years. "They're telling the truth Harry."
She pulled away from Remus and Hermione and sank onto the bed, sobbing; all she could see was another home reduced to rubble… Hermione hovered beside her, uncertain.
"Ron," said Remus, still looking at Amelia unhappily, "give me that rat."
"What are you going to do to him?" asked Ron, tensely.
"Force him to show himself," said Remus. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."
Ron hesitated, then at long last held out Scabbers and Remus took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head.
If he really is a rat, thought Amelia dimly, then it looks like he's about to have a heart attack.
Breathing hard, she patted Ron's hand as a gesture of comfort.
"Ready Sirius?" said Remus.
Black had already retrieved Severus's wand from the bed. He approached Remus and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.
"Together?" he said quietly.
"I think so," said Remus, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One – two – THREE!"
A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in mid-air, his small black form twisting madly – Ron yelled – the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then –
It was like watching up a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting up from the ground; limbs were sprouting; next moment, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed, the hair on his back standing up. Amelia rather agreed with him.
Pettigrew was a very short man, hardly taller than Hermione. His thin, colourless hair was unkempt, and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a great deal of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost exactly like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose, his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Amelia saw his eyes dart to the door and back again; she didn't need to be a reader to know that Pettigrew was in trouble. And he knew it.
"Well, hello Peter," said Remus pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. They probably do, thought Amelia. "Long time, no see."
"S-Sirius… R-Remus…" even his voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted towards the door. "My friends… my old friends…"
Black's wand arm rose, but Remus seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.
"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened on the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed –"
It was the absolute calm in Remus's voice that betrayed his fury to Hermione; Amelia could feel it burning through him, though he sounded for all the world like he was chairing a meeting. Suddenly, for the first time, she was a little afraid of him.
"Remus," gasped Pettigrew as beads of sweat broke out over his pasty face, "you don't believe him, do you… He tried to kill me, Remus…"
"So we've heard," said Remus, more coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'd be so –"
"He's come to try to kill me again!" Peter shrieked suddenly, pointing at Black with his middle finger. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too! You've got to help me, Remus…"
Black's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes.
"No one's going to try to kill you until we've sorted a few things out," said Remus.
And after that? Amelia thought, suddenly.
"Sorted things out?" squeaked Pettigrew, looking wildly about him once more, his eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"
"You knew Sirius would break out of Azkaban?" said Remus, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"
"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly as Amelia tried to imagine herself dreaming of that level of darkness. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He Who Must Not Be Named taught him a few tricks!"
Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room; Amelia felt for him.
"Voldemort, teach me tricks?"
Pettigrew flinched as though Black had brandished a whip at him.
"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" said Black. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"
"Don't know – what you mean – Sirius –" muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. It occurred to Amelia that he might still have a heart attack. His whole face was shining with sweat now.
"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," said Black. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… they all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them… I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow on your information… and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty of them out there, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways… If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter…"
"Don't know… what you're talking about…" repeated Pettigrew, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Remus. "You don't believe this – this madness, Remus –"
"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," Remus said evenly.
"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban! The spy – Sirius Black!"
Black's face contorted.
"How dare you," he growled, sounding exactly like the bear-sized dog he had been. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than me? But you, Peter – I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? In school it used to be us…"
Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath. "Me, a spy… must be out of your mind… never… don't know how you can say such a –"
"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backwards. "I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."
Pettigrew was ashen faced now and muttering distractedly, not even bothering to conceal his fervent glances towards window or door.
"Professor Lupin?" said Hermione timidly. "Can – can I say something?"
"Certainly, Hermione," said Remus courteously.
"Well – Scabbers – I mean, this – this man – he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, why hasn't he hurt Harry before now?"
"There!" said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at her with his maimed hand. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"
"I'll tell you why," said Black. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for twelve years, they say he's half-dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him…"
Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk. It was a lot like watching a car crash in slow motion; the men in front of her appeared to need to hear him admit his treachery, though it was obvious for anyone to see now. Or perhaps they need Harry to hear it…
"Er – Mr Black – Sirius?" said Hermione timidly. Amelia was secretly very proud of her.
Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though being spoken to politely was something he'd long forgotten.
"If you don't mind me asking, how – how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"
"Thank you!" gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at her. "Exactly! Precisely what I -"
"Oh shut up, you whiny git," said Amelia from the bed; Remus gave her a Look. Black was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he was annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.
"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know…" He swallowed. "They feel their way towards people by sensing their emotions… they could tell that my feelings were less – less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand…
Amelia reached out to him and took his hand, briefly; he looked at her bemused.
"But then I saw Peter in that picture… I realised he was at Hogwarts with Harry… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…"
Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring at Black as though hypnotised.
"… ready to strike the moment he could be sure of allies… to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honours…
"So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive… It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it… it wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… it's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I was thin, very thin… thin enough to slip through the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog… I've been living in the Forest ever since… except when I come to watch the Quidditch, of course… you fly as well as your father did, Harry…"
He looked at Harry, who did not look away.
"Believe me," croaked Black. "Believe me. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."
And at long last, Harry appeared to believe him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.
"No!"
Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry's nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, grovelling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.
"Sirius – it's me… it's Peter… your friend… you wouldn't…"
Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.
"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," said Black.
"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to him instead, writhing on the floor in front of him. "You don't believe this… Wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"
"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said Remus, who was now rolling up his sleeves in a business-like manner. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.
"Forgive me, Remus," said Black.
"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," said Remus, the shadow of a smile on his lips. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for thinking you were the spy?"
"Of course," said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt features. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves; Amelia had a feeling what was coming next. "Shall we kill him together?"
"Yes, I think so," said Remus grimly.
"You wouldn't… you won't…" gasped Pettigrew. And he scrambled around to Ron.
"Ron… haven't I been a good friend… a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you… you're on my side, aren't you?"
But Ron was staring at him with the utmost revulsion, unsure what disgusted him more. He settled for the simplest.
"I let you sleep in my bed!" he said.
"Kind boy… kind master…" Pettigrew crawled towards Ron, "you won't let them do it… I was your rat… I was a good pet…"
"If you made a better rat than human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," said Black, harshly. Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew, looking ever more pathetic, turned on his knees, staggered forwards and seized the hem of Hermione's robes.
"Sweet girl… clever girl… you – you won't let them… help me…"
Amelia's wand was pressed firmly against his throat; tears still shone on her face, but her wand and voice were quite steady.
"Touch her or Ron again and you're a dead rat," she said, coldly.
Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified at him, what Lupin and Black were clearly about to do and Amelia's sincere lack of sympathy.
Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly towards Harry. Amelia tightened her grip on her wand and ever so slightly increased the pressure against his neck.
"Harry…" he choked. "Harry… you look just like your father… just like him…"
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"
"Harry," whispered Pettigrew, stretching his arms out to him, pleading. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed… James would have understood, Harry… he would have shown me mercy…"
"Perhaps up until the point where you murdered his wife and child," said Amelia, conversationally.
Both Sirius and Remus strode forwards, seized Pettigrew's shoulders and threw him backwards to the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.
"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," said Sirius, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"
Amelia was suddenly reminded of the traditional Anglo-Saxon trials; this would only lead to Pettigrew's execution. That part of her brain that ran while the rest of her concentrated on the matter in hand examined her conscience: she felt no pity for Pettigrew, she realised, only for the men whose lives he had so willingly destroyed.
On the floor, Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch: he looked like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.
"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James."
This, Amelia felt, was probably the only truth Pettigrew had told in twelve years.
"I never meant it to happen… He Who Must Not Be Named forced me –"
"DON'T LIE!" bellowed Sirius. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"
All the fragments of a life, Amelia thought sadly, the smiles, the tears, the laughter… always coming to this… only this.
"He – he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Pettigrew. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"
"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said Black, with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"
"You don't understand," he whined. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"
I hope, that when I face death, I shall stand before him and not grovel, she thought. Amelia looked around her, briefly. It struck her that Harry, Ron and Hermione, her Hermione, would carry the events that happened in this gloomy, desperate room with them for the rest of their lives.
"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Sirius. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"
Sirius and Remus stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.
It should not end like this.
"You should have realised," said Remus quietly. "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."
Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall.
"No," Amelia said, as Harry yelled it. The boy ran forwards, placing himself in front of Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."
Remus and Sirius both looked staggered.
"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die, too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."
"I know," Harry panted. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors. He can go to Azkaban… just don't kill him."
"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You – thank you – it's more than I deserve – thank you –"
"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because I don't reckon my dad would've wanted his best friends to become killers – just for you."
Not for the first time, Amelia was intensely proud to know this boy.
Nobody moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Sirius and Remus were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands; their reaffirmed attachment was obvious to anyone.
"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said Sirius. "But think… think what he did…"
"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does."
Amelia crossed the room and laid a hand on Remus's arm.
"You're not a killer, Remus," she said softly. "Neither of you are."
Pettigrew was still wheezing on the floor behind Harry.
Remus looked from Amelia, to Harry, to Sirius and back to Harry once more.
"Very well," he said. "Stand aside, Harry."
Harry hesitated.
"I'm going to tie him up," said Remus. "That's all, I swear."
Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Remus's wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.
"But if you transform, Peter," Sirius growled, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew, too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harry?"
Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor, and nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.
"Right," said Remus, suddenly business-like. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, So I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."
He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand and muttered "Ferula." Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Remus helped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.
"That's better," he said. "Thanks."
"What about Professor Snape?" asked Hermione in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure.
"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," said Amelia, bending over Severus and checking his pulse. "You were just a little – over-enthusiastic. Still out cold." She looked at the others in an appraising manner. "Er – perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safely back in the castle. We can take him like this…"
Remus muttered "Mobilicorpus." As though invisible strings were tied to Snape's wrists, neck and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling.
"Is that the best you can do for him?" asked Amelia, eyebrows raised.
"Yes, actually," replied Remus, apparently still smarting over the Potions Master's earlier taunts; Sirius smirked.
"Hmmm." Amelia said, as he picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely in his pocket, not meeting her gaze.
"And two of us should be chained to this," said Black, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."
"I'll do it," said Remus.
"And me," said Ron savagely, limping forwards.
Sirius conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Remus's right, right arm to Ron's left. Ron's face was set. He appeared to have taken Scabbers's true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottle-brush tail held jauntily high.