Chapter 3: The Rat and the Truth

"Mary, are you ready?" James Potter called out, his voice echoing through the grand staircase of the manor. He was already halfway down the steps, clutching his wand tightly in one hand and a Ministry-issued letter in the other. Just the day before, the Ministry had granted him something he hadn't dared hope for in days — permission to visit Sirius Black in Azkaban.

Now, as the morning sun filtered through the frosted windows, the household was a flurry of movement. Outside, Remus Lupin stood quietly by the gates, waiting with his usual calm, though the tight grip on his coat betrayed his unease. Inside, James waited for Mary, who soon emerged from the nursery with both Harry and Neville cradled carefully in her arms.

Frank Longbottom had remained behind to care for Alice. Though her condition had improved slightly after Bellatrix's savage Cruciatus Curse, she was still not entirely lucid. And Lily… Lily was resting peacefully, a glimmer of color returning to her cheeks, but the healers insisted it was best for her to remain asleep. Her mind and magic needed time to recover.

They were taking no risks — the children had to be kept safe. The Weasleys had been kind enough to agree to watch over Harry and Neville while the others went to the Ministry. The previous evening, James had sent a letter to the Burrow, and Molly Weasley, ever warm-hearted, had replied within the hour. She and Arthur would be more than happy to take the boys in for the day.

The fireplace glowed with emerald flames as Mary stepped in first with Neville and vanished. Remus followed silently, and then James stepped into the Floo Network with Harry clutched against his chest. In seconds, the kitchen of the Burrow unfolded before him — small, cozy, and filled with the delicious scent of freshly baked bread.

Molly was already hugging Mary tightly, her eyes red-rimmed but smiling. Arthur reached out to greet James warmly. "Good to see you, James," he said, and James smiled back, handing over Harry, who giggled and reached for Arthur's ginger hair.

They spoke briefly — of Alice's condition, of Sirius, of the war dragging on like a storm refusing to pass. And just as they began to relax, a loud crash and a burst of laughter erupted from the garden door.

One of the Weasley boys came barreling into the kitchen — a freckled blur of excitement. "Mum! Dad! Look what I found! Can we keep it?" he said, holding out both hands.

In his palm wriggled a rat. At first glance, it seemed ordinary — a bit shabby, but nothing unusual for a child to pick up outside. But as James narrowed his eyes, something twisted inside his gut. His breath caught.

That shape… that color… those small, twitching paws…

Before he could speak, the rat suddenly squirmed with violent energy, trying desperately to wriggle free. "Urgh! Stop — what's happening?!" the boy cried out as the rat bit his hand. His fists flew open, and the rat darted for the door.

"Stupefy!" James shouted, wand already in hand. The red beam struck the rat mid-leap. A split second later, another spell — Remus's — followed, knocking the stunned creature back into the center of the kitchen.

Molly shrieked, her hands flying to her mouth. "What in Merlin's name—?!"

James ignored her. His heart was pounding. He turned to Remus, whose face had gone pale.

"Do you think…?" James asked hoarsely.

"How could we be mistaken?" Remus murmured. "We've seen him like this a hundred times. It's him."

"Mary, Molly, take the children out of here. Now," James said, voice clipped and firm. There was no room for hesitation. The Weasley boy stood frozen in place, eyes wide, clutching his bitten hand.

Arthur moved toward him quickly. "Come on, son. Let's go. We'll sort this out in a moment." His voice was tight with concern, but calm — steady in the storm.

James turned back to the rat — the body still limp, but beginning to twitch.

"I'll explain everything, Arthur," James said quickly. "But not yet. We need to be sure first."

Arthur nodded, though confusion danced in his eyes.

James's fingers trembled around his wand. The betrayal, the years of silence, Sirius's hollow face in his mind — it all boiled inside him. If this is Peter Pettigrew… if this is the coward who destroyed everything…

"If this is who I think it is," James said, voice low and dangerous, "I swear I'll kill—"

"No." Remus placed a hand on his shoulder, firm but gentle. "No, James. He'll face justice. The Ministry will handle it. Sirius deserves the truth. And Peter deserves Azkaban."

James nodded stiffly. "Fine. But he's not slipping away this time."

He reinforced the house's wards with a few rapid flicks of his wand — doors sealed, windows locked, not even a gnat would pass unnoticed.

Now, only four remained in the room: James, Remus, Arthur, and the rat.

"Ready?" James asked.

Remus raised his wand. "Ready."

Arthur glanced between them. "What's going on, James?"

"You're about to witness something… insane," James said grimly. "Be ready for anything."

In unison, James and Remus cast the spell.

Bright light erupted from their wands, enveloping the rat. For a moment, there was silence, then a violent twist of magic and a sickening pop. The creature lifted into the air, body stretching, warping, reshaping.

A man landed with a thud on the kitchen floor.

Short, balding, and trembling, he lay there gasping — filthy robes, watery eyes, and a look of sheer terror on his face.

Arthur stepped back in shock. "Pettigrew…?" he whispered.

James's jaw clenched. "Hello, Peter," he growled, voice laced with fire.

Peter Pettigrew whimpered as he slowly lifted his head from the wooden floor of the Burrow's kitchen. His watery eyes darted from James to Remus, then to Arthur, searching for any shred of mercy.

"J-James," he stammered. "Please—listen—I didn't have a choice!"

James took a step forward, wand pointed directly at Peter's chest. "Don't. Say. My name."

Peter flinched. "I—I was scared! You don't understand what it was like. He—he would've killed me if I didn't—"

"And so you what?" Remus spat, his usually calm voice rising with fury. "So you betrayed your best friends? Let Sirius rot in Azkaban while you framed him! Right? You framed him,. You blew the street." James moved a finger through his hair, 'Now I get it.'

"I didn't mean to—I didn't know it would go so far!" Peter cried, crawling back toward the wall like a cornered rat. "I never wanted anyone to get hurt, I swear it!"

"You never wanted anyone to get hurt?" James's voice cracked with rage. "You handed us to Voldemort! You told him where Lily and Harry were! You're the reason my wife's been in a coma for days, and Harry—my son—nearly died!"

Peter's lips trembled, and his voice dropped to a pathetic whisper. "I thought he'd spare you... I thought maybe if I gave him something, he wouldn't come after me…"

"People died because of you!" James roared, his face twisted in fury. "Fabian and Gideon Prewett—dead! Marlene—dead! My parents, Lily's parents—dead! All because you were too much of a coward to stand up for what was right!"

Peter covered his ears, tears falling freely now. "I was scared! He was You-Know-Who! No one could stop him!"

"We tried!" James shouted. "We fought! We lost everything, everyone! And Sirius—he paid the price for your sins while you played dead!"

Arthur, who had remained frozen for most of the exchange, finally spoke. "You faked your death. Framed an innocent man."

Peter nodded miserably. "I—I didn't have anyother way to escape…"

James's hands shook. "You disgust me."

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered.

"SORRY?" James's voice thundered through the room. "You're sorry? Tell that to the children who don't have parents. Tell that to Lily, lying unconscious in St. Mungo's. Tell that to Sirius, who went mad in a cell thinking he'd failed us!"

Peter opened his mouth to plead again, but the look in James's eyes silenced him.

"Enough," Remus said tightly. "We're taking him to the Ministry. They'll deal with him now."

Peter's eyes widened. "No—no, please—don't take me there, I—I won't survive—please—"

"Should've thought about that before you sold your soul," James growled.

Peter made a sudden lunge toward the fireplace, but Remus was faster. "Stupefy!"

The spell struck him squarely in the chest, and Peter collapsed with a dull thud, unconscious once more.

James knelt beside him, binding his arms and legs with thick magical cords. He cast a revealing spell, confirming the man's identity — it shimmered briefly over Peter's pale face and left no doubt.

"Arthur," James said without looking up, "we'll need to use your Floo connection to go straight to the Ministry. I'll explain everything when we're done — I promise."

Arthur nodded slowly. "Take him. I'll stay with Molly and the children."

Remus conjured a floating stretcher, and they hoisted Peter's limp form onto it.

James stood tall, his face hard but his eyes filled with pain. "It's not over. But it's a start."

Without another word, they stepped into the flames — and vanished toward the Ministry of Magic, carrying with them a traitor, and the first true crack in the darkness that had gripped their world for far too long.

Ministry of Magic — Department of Magical Law Enforcement

The sudden green flare of the Floo in the DMLE Atrium startled several junior Aurors from their desks. Papers fluttered in the air as James Potter, Remus Lupin, and a magically bound Peter Pettigrew appeared on a floating stretcher, his face pale and unconscious.

"Clear the way!" James barked, eyes blazing with fury as he stormed through the Department. "Where's Crouch? Amelia Bones? Someone get them now!"

Heads turned. The name James Potter carried weight — but the sight of Peter Pettigrew, bound and unconscious, caused whispers to ripple like wildfire.

"Potter?" came a stunned voice — it was Auror Savage, stepping forward with a hand on his wand. "Is that—Merlin's beard—is that Pettigrew?"

"Alive and well," Remus said grimly, "and not very happy about it."

Doors slammed open as Amelia Bones, stern as ever with her monocle gleaming, strode in. Bartemius Crouch Sr. followed moments later, his expression unreadable.

"Potter," Amelia said sharply, "what is the meaning of this interruption?"

James stepped aside and gestured to the floating figure. "That, Madam Bones, is Peter Pettigrew. The man who betrayed the Potters. The man who framed Sirius Black. The man everyone thought was dead."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"You're claiming Peter Pettigrew is alive?" Crouch asked, voice tight. "That he faked his death? That he's responsible for—"

"Everything," James said coldly. "We caught him. We want a trial. Now."

"Now?" Amelia repeated, brows raised. "Potter, the Wizengamot is not summoned at a whim. It takes days—"

"No." James stepped closer. "This man has walked free while Sirius Black wasted in a cell for crimes he committed. He faked his death. He murdered twelve Muggles. He killed half the . Mckinnons, - Your Family, Amelia! He betrayed my family to Voldemort. You want justice? Start now."

Crouch's expression flickered. "That's quite an accusation—"

"It's not an accusation," Remus interrupted. "It's the truth. We witnessed the transformation ourselves — we forced him out of his Animagus form. Ask your Aurors. Test him."

A Healer was already running a revealing charm over Pettigrew's form. The magic shimmered, confirming what James and Remus already knew.

"Unregistered Animagus," the Healer confirmed. "Rat form."

Amelia looked furious now. "Why was this never verified? Why—"

"Because no one listened to Sirius," James snapped. "You wanted a scapegoat, and he gave himself up without a fight."

"We'll interrogate him under Veritaserum," Amelia said, turning on her heel. "If he talks—"

"He will talk," James growled. "And I want the Wizengamot summoned. Call Dumbledore. Call whoever you need. But today—right now—we end this."

Crouch looked torn, his bureaucratic instincts at war with the enormity of what lay in front of him. Amelia, however, nodded once, crisply.

"Bring him to Interrogation Room 3. Potter, Lupin, you'll stay with us. We'll get confirmation before anything else."

"And when you do," James said, his voice like steel, "you're going to apologize. To Sirius. To all of us."

As they wheeled Peter Pettigrew deeper into the heart of the DMLE, silence hung heavy in the air — the kind that comes just before thunder.

Justice was finally waking up.

…

The Wizengamot Trial – Ministry of Magic, Courtroom Ten

The ancient chamber buzzed with unrest, lit by torches that cast long shadows across the worn stone walls. Tonight, the Wizengamot had been summoned for an emergency trial—one shrouded in confusion and urgency. Even the most stoic faces in the room were tinged with curiosity, their purple robes fluttering as they settled into their high-backed seats.

At precisely 9:00 p.m., Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump, stood and raised his wand. The silver chime that followed silenced the whispering crowd. All attention turned to the center of the chamber, where a trembling figure sat chained to a chair—Peter Pettigrew. His rat-like eyes darted nervously as the chains clinked softly with every twitch.

James Potter sat in the gallery above, jaw tight, hands clenched around the edge of the railing. He felt Remus beside him, calm but tense, ready if James faltered. Across from them, Ministry officials stood stone-faced—Amelia Bones, Barty Crouch Sr., Tiberius Ogden. All waited.

Dumbledore spoke, his voice calm and firm. "We begin with testimony from Mr. James Potter. You may speak."

James rose and walked into the circle. For a moment, he stared at Pettigrew, the man they once called friend. Then he turned to the assembled court.

"I'll tell you everything—no secrets," James said, voice steady despite the storm inside him. "At fifteen, Sirius, Peter, and I became illegal Animagi to support Remus during full moons at Hogwarts. We never registered. We knew the risk, but we trusted each other more than rules."

Murmurs erupted instantly. Several members of the Wizengamot sat upright in shock, some gasping at the revelation.

James continued, louder, sharper. "We trusted Peter, too much. After Lily and I went into hiding, we switched our Secret Keeper from Sirius to Peter. It was supposed to be safer. It wasn't."

He recounted it all—the Halloween night, the shattered wards at Godric's Hollow, Peter's disappearance, the rat form they knew too well, how they found him days later in the Weasleys' home. He described the confrontation, the transformation, and Peter's confession.

Gasps again filled the chamber. But suddenly, voices rose—outrage, questions, condemnation.

"Illegal Animagus—!"

"Why wasn't this reported?!"

"He endangered lives—!"

James didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed.

Dumbledore raised his wand. "Enough."

Silence fell again, reluctant but absolute.

"Peter Pettigrew will now be administered Veritaserum."

A Ministry official approached the bound man. Peter squirmed, but there was no escape. The potion was administered, and within moments, his body sagged, compliant.

"State your name," Amelia Bones said.

"Peter Pettigrew," he mumbled.

"Did you reveal the Potters' location to Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I was scared… He found me. I didn't want to die."

"Did you fake your death and frame Sirius Black for it?"

"Yes. I blew up the street. Cut off my finger. Transformed."

He continued, word for word, everything James and Remus had suspected. His voice was dull, lifeless, as he gave up every betrayal like shedding old skin.

When the questioning ended, a deep silence took hold—thicker than before, as if the entire room held its breath.

Then, the great oak doors creaked open.

Two Dementors glided forward, flanking a tall, ragged figure. Sirius Black, manacled and pale, stepped into the courtroom. His hair hung in damp tangles, his eyes sunken, shadowed. But they scanned the room sharply until they landed on James. Their eyes locked.

James nodded—quiet, firm, filled with unshed grief and brotherhood. Sirius exhaled, the ghost of a smile twitching at his lips.

The Dementors halted. Amelia nodded. "Administer the Veritaserum."

As Sirius sat, a wizard stepped forward with the vial. Sirius didn't flinch. Moments later, his posture eased, eyes hazing.

"Your name?"

"Sirius Orion Black."

"Were you the Potters' Secret Keeper?"

"No. We changed it to Peter."

"Did you betray them?"

"No."

"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew?"

"No."

"Did you cast any spells on the Muggle street the night he disappeared?"

"No. He blew it up himself."

It matched perfectly. The same story. No deviation.

And then—

A loud bang echoed from the far end of the chamber. A cane slammed down hard.

Arcturus Black, aged patriarch of the Most Noble House of Black, stood trembling with fury. No one had seen him this animated in years.

"This is an outrage!" he thundered. "You imprisoned a Black—without a trial, without proof! You let this coward,"—he jabbed a trembling hand at Pettigrew—"sully the name of my house, sully our legacy, while you paraded my grandson in chains!"

The court was stunned.

"Do you think we forget?" Arcturus roared. "You locked Sirius away without so much as a question! He was never even given a wand to defend himself! And you dare call this justice?"

Silence followed. No one dared answer.

"I demand reparation for what has been done to my family. I demand Pettigrew's execution."

"No!" Dumbledore's voice rang out, calm but final. "There will be no execution without due process."

Arcturus's face twisted, but he didn't argue further. Not with Dumbledore.

Amelia finally stood, her voice softer now. "The court finds Sirius Black innocent of all charges. He is to be released immediately. Peter Pettigrew is guilty of treason, murder, and conspiracy with the Dark Lord. His sentence will be life in Azkaban. The Black Family would be offered 20000 galleons as a make-up for the mistake that Wizengamot made. And for being unregistered Animagus, James Potter and Sirius Black both would be charged 5000 galleons"

James didn't care of the charges. He was just happy that his brother was free. The chamber stayed silent as the chains on Sirius vanished.

The heavy doors of Courtroom Ten shut with a hollow thud behind them, and for a moment, everything felt still. As if the entire world paused to exhale. The air outside the chamber was crisp, cool against skin flushed from tension. Ministry officials shuffled past, whispering, casting glances, but James didn't notice any of it.

He only saw Sirius—his brother in everything but blood—finally free.

Without a word, James closed the distance between them and threw his arms around Sirius. The chains were gone, but Sirius still stood like a man bound, body tense and frail. When James wrapped him in a tight, bone-deep hug, he felt the tremble that ran through him.

Sirius choked on a breath, and then he collapsed into James's embrace.

"I—I thought you were dead, James," he rasped, voice raw, cracked, barely above a whisper. "They didn't tell me anything. I kept begging—pleading—to know. I thought Voldemort had killed you. I thought Harry and Lily—and Mary—"

His voice cracked completely. The tears finally broke free, trailing down his dirt-smudged face, silent but endless.

James didn't say anything at first. He just ran a comforting hand through Sirius's matted hair, holding the back of his head gently like he might with Harry when he cried. His other arm remained wrapped around Sirius's thin frame, keeping him grounded, keeping him here.

"They're okay," James murmured. "They're safe. All of them. Lily's fine. Harry's with Mary right now. And Mary's fine too. You'll see them soon, I swear."

But Sirius didn't stop. His words came in a messy rush, broken by sobs. "I saw them in my dreams, James. I saw them dying. Again and again. And I was stuck in that cell, and I couldn't do anything—I couldn't save you."

James's chest clenched. "Sirius. You didn't lose us. You didn't fail anyone. We're here. Because of you."

And then another pair of arms joined them.

Remus stepped forward, face pale and wet with silent tears. He pulled them both into an embrace, his voice trembling.

"I'm sorry, Pads," he whispered. "We should've known. We should've known it wasn't you."

But Sirius was already shaking his head. "No, Moony, no—I get it. I do. I would've thought it too. I just—Merlin, I needed you both so badly in there. I needed to hear your voices. I needed someone to believe me…"

"You were alone for too long," James murmured. "But not anymore."

Sirius turned, gripping Remus like a lifeline now. "I thought I'd never see you again, Moony. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Remus's voice broke. "Don't—don't apologize. We're the ones who should be begging for your forgiveness. You suffered because we didn't question enough. But not anymore. We've got you now."

Sirius leaned into him, his tears soaking into Remus's cloak. For the first time in days—years, really—he felt warmth, felt the weight of arms around him that weren't restraining, but reassuring.

James placed a hand on both their shoulders.

"You're home, Sirius. You're home. And we're going to fix everything."

Around them, the Ministry corridors faded into a blur. The whispers and stares didn't matter. All that mattered was this—three brothers, bruised by war, separated by betrayal, now reunited.

And this time, they wouldn't let go.

….