Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The low, rumbling growl emanating from Remus Lupin’s chest was terrifyingly feral. It was the sound of a predator whose pack had been slaughtered, finally confronting the traitor.

”How dare you,” Lupin snarled, his voice vibrating with a raw, primal fury that made the hairs on the back of Orion’s neck stand up. ”You call me friend? You sold James and Lily to Voldemort!”

Lupin raised his wand, his hand shaking violently, ready to cast a curse that would likely tear Pettigrew apart.

Before the spell could leave his lips, Dumbledore moved. With a sharp flick of the Elder Wand, thick, glowing ropes shot forward, binding Peter tightly from neck to ankles, pinning him securely to the floor.

”Remus,” Dumbledore said, his voice quiet but echoing with absolute authority. ”You must calm down. I understand your anger—I share it—but we need Peter alive in order to fully understand the situation and clear Sirius’s name.”

Lupin’s chest heaved. He stared at the groveling, bound man on the floor, his eyes blazing with a mixture of hatred and profound grief. Slowly, agonizingly, he lowered his wand, stepping back to respect the Headmaster’s command, though the growl still lingered in his throat.

Dumbledore stepped out from behind his desk, looking down at the shivering coward.

”Peter,” Dumbledore addressed him, his tone devoid of any warmth or grandfatherly affection. ”I wish to hear the truth from your own mouth first, so that perhaps the use of Veritaserum—and the extreme unpleasantness that accompanies it—might not be necessary. You know you cannot escape this room. So why not give in, and tell us what truly happened?”

Pettigrew writhed against the ropes, tears streaming down his grimy face. He looked at Dumbledore’s unyielding expression, then at the furious faces of McGonagall and Lupin. He knew he was trapped.

”It... it was Sirius’s idea!” Pettigrew wailed, his voice cracking. ”Sirius made James and Lily make me their Secret Keeper! They did the spell in secret! Sirius told them... he told them he would be the decoy! The Dark Lord would come after him, and he would fight, while I hid them!”

He choked on a sob, looking desperately around the room for sympathy and finding none.

”I didn’t want to betray them!” Pettigrew squeaked, his watery eyes darting wildly. ”I swear it! But the Dark Lord... he is terrible! He has power you cannot imagine! He found me! He tortured me! He made me do it! I had to give away the secret to survive!”

A sudden, enraged shout shattered the tense silence.

”You coward!” Harry roared.

Harry broke away from Ron and Hermione, lunging forward with blind, reckless fury, his hands outstretched, intending to physically strangle the man who had orphaned him.

Before Harry could reach Pettigrew, Lupin intercepted him. Lupin grabbed Harry around the waist, hauling the thrashing boy backward.

”Let me go!” Harry yelled, struggling violently against Lupin’s grip. ”He killed them! He killed my mum and dad!”

”Harry, no!” Lupin wrestled with the boy, his own voice tight with emotion. ”Don’t do this! He wants you to lose control!”

Pettigrew, seeing the boy, tried to squirm backward, his face a mask of pathetic desperation.

”Harry! Harry, please!” Pettigrew begged, his voice high and whining. ”I saw you as a baby! I held you! James was my friend! I would never want to hurt you—!”

”HOW DARE YOU!”

The shout didn’t come from Harry, or Lupin, or Dumbledore.

It came from Professor McGonagall.

Her usually pristine composure completely fractured. With a swift, furious motion, she slashed her wand through the air. A jagged bolt of red light—a powerful blasting curse—shot toward Pettigrew.

Dumbledore reacted instantly. A translucent, golden shield flared into existence between McGonagall and Pettigrew. The red curse slammed into the shield, dissipating harmlessly with a loud crack.

”Minerva!” Dumbledore commanded sharply.

”How dare he!” McGonagall shrieked, her chest heaving, tears of pure, unadulterated rage shining in her eyes. ”How dare he speak their names in front of their son! How dare he claim friendship after handing them over to be murdered!”

”Minerva, please, calm down,” Dumbledore requested softly, stepping in front of her. ”We cannot descend into vengeance. We must be better than he was.”

McGonagall took a shuddering breath, lowering her wand, though her glare remained fixed on the cowering man on the floor.

Meanwhile, Lupin had managed to restrain Harry, pulling him back against the bookcases. Harry was still breathing heavily, his green eyes locked onto Pettigrew with a burning, absolute hatred.

Orion, who had been watching the emotional meltdown with detached, clinical interest, finally stepped away from the wall. He smoothed the front of his dark robes, his expression perfectly calm.

”If I may,” Orion interjected smoothly, drawing the attention of the room. ”This confession clarifies a significant geopolitical anomaly.”

He walked slowly toward the center of the office, his blue eyes flicking briefly to the bound rat-man.

”I recall seeing the Weasley family photograph on the front page of the Daily Prophet this summer. From their trip to Egypt,” Orion noted, looking at Ron, who was still looking slightly green. ”I believe the rat was prominently featured in that photograph. Sitting on your shoulder, if memory serves.”

Ron nodded mutely.

Orion turned to Dumbledore. ”It stands to reason, Headmaster, that Sirius Black saw that photograph in Azkaban. He recognized the missing toe. He realized the traitor was not only alive, but residing with a wizarding family, likely near Harry Potter.”

He paused, a faint, sardonic smile touching his lips.

”There is a very high probability that Sirius Black did not escape Azkaban to find Potter. He escaped to kill Pettigrew. A foolish decision, tactically speaking.”

Harry’s head snapped toward Orion, his glare shifting instantly.

”A foolish decision?” Harry spat, his voice shaking with anger. ”Why is it foolish? This man betrayed my parents! He’s the reason they are dead! He framed Sirius for twelve years! Why is killing him a stupid decision?!”

Orion didn’t flinch. He looked at Harry’s furious, grief-stricken face, his own expression remaining perfectly cold and logical.

”Because killing him, Potter, will not help with bringing out the truth,” Orion stated flatly.

He gestured gracefully toward Pettigrew.

”The truth of your parents’ betrayal, and the proof of Sirius Black’s innocence, rests entirely on the fact that this specific man is still drawing breath. He is the only living, verifiable proof that the official Ministry narrative is a lie.”

Orion crossed his arms, leaning slightly forward.

”If Black finds him and kills him... or if you throttle him here on the floor... what do you achieve? Pettigrew remains a martyred hero in the eyes of the public. Black remains a wanted mass-murderer, hunted by Dementors until they consume his soul. The truth remains buried forever.”

He held Harry’s furious gaze, his voice dropping into a harsh, unforgiving register.

”It does not help anyone, Potter. Except, perhaps, cooling your nerves for a few fleeting seconds.”

Orion stood up straight, looking down at the Boy Who Lived with a mixture of pity and aristocratic disdain.

”You should be happy that he is caught alive. Because it means your godfather is going to be a free man,” Orion concluded softly. ”Or maybe... you will only be satisfied when you have his blood on your own hands.”