"Yes, Ron. Detective Potter came to the same conclusion," Richard said. "But the important part is what the prophecy said. According to it, Harry posed a threat to Tom Riddle."
"Hang on..." Fred said quietly, horror dawning on his face. "Correct me if I'm wrong. Snape reported the prophecy to You-Know-Who, who went after Harry—but ended up killing his parents instead?"
Harry Potter looked utterly devastated. He sat there as though all the life had drained out of him.
"Yes..." Richard glanced sadly at Harry and sighed. "Headmaster Dumbledore warned James and Lily Potter that they were in danger. He offered to protect their home with the Fidelius Charm, which would conceal it from everyone except the Secret-Keeper and anyone the Keeper chose to tell. James Potter declined Dumbledore's help, but he liked the idea. He performed the enchantment himself, choosing Peter Pettigrew as Secret-Keeper because he believed Peter was so insignificant that no one would ever suspect him. At the same time, he spread the rumour that Sirius Black was the real Secret-Keeper."
"That filthy traitor..." Harry hissed furiously. "He handed my parents over to Riddle! I'll kill that filthy rat!"
"Harry, let's hear the rest first," Ron urged.
"Right," Harry breathed. "Sorry... Richie, what happened next?"
"Harry, are you sure you want to hear it?" Richard asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I am," Harry replied with a firm nod.
Richard took another sip of his fizzy drink before continuing.
"As you guessed, Harry, Peter really did betray your parents. On the thirty-first of October, 1981, he personally led Tom Riddle to your family's home. But whether James and Lily somehow protected you, or whether it was simply a miracle, Riddle was destroyed. Peter had been waiting outside, but when the roof of the house exploded, he rushed inside. He found James and Lily dead, you lying there with blood running from your forehead, and Riddle's robes with nothing left inside them but a small heap of ashes. Peter snatched up Tom's wand and fled."
Harry looked dreadful. He was swaying slightly, but somehow found the strength to ask,
"And... Black? What happened to him?"
"As you can imagine, Peter couldn't tell us what happened inside the Potters' house after he fled. But he knew Sirius Black would almost certainly come after him for revenge. That's when Peter came up with a plan—to fake his own death. He waited for Sirius near his mother's house. The moment he spotted Black in the distance, he alerted the Aurors and took off running. Black chased after Pettigrew, trying to kill him. As he ran, Peter kept shouting at the top of his lungs, 'How could you betray them?' When he reached a crowded street, he cast a powerful Blasting Curse into the crowd, cut off one of his own fingers, transformed into a rat, and escaped through a manhole."
"Hang on, Richie," Harry interrupted, sitting bolt upright. "Does that mean Black never betrayed my parents... and never killed anyone?"
"That's right."
"But..." Potter stared at him in disbelief. "Then why was he arrested?"
"At the time, the wizarding authorities were under pressure from Her Majesty's ultimatum. They weren't especially interested in sorting out who was guilty and who wasn't—they locked up anyone under the slightest suspicion of having ties to the Death Eaters. The only people who escaped prison were those who could pay handsomely and convince the Ministry's leadership they had no intention of returning to terrorism."
"Bastards!" Harry hissed furiously. "So that scum stayed free for twelve years, while an innocent man rotted in prison..."
Fred looked at Harry.
"Harry, we know you're angry and upset, but let's hear the rest."
Harry gave a weary wave of his hand, as if to say, Go on, then.
Richie continued.
"The Aurors arrived and arrested Sirius. Black was completely out of his mind. He kept muttering, 'It's my fault they died.' The officers quickly questioned the Muggle eyewitnesses. They'd seen the explosion and heard Pettigrew shouting. The Aurors decided that was all the evidence they needed to accuse Sirius of murdering Pettigrew and a crowd of Muggles. Afterwards, they Obliviated every witness. Sirius was put on trial almost immediately, where he was asked just one question: 'Are you guilty?' He answered, 'Yes.' A classic case of self-blame under extreme psychological stress. The judges didn't bother listening to anything else—they sentenced Black to life imprisonment in Azkaban."
George wasn't especially interested in hearing about Black. He asked the question that had been bothering him instead.
"So how did Pettigrew end up living at our house?"
"Yeah!" Fred chimed in. "And why?"
"Good question..." Richard said, thoughtfully rubbing the back of his hand along his chin. "This is where things get into some rather strange magical business. Peter insists Tom Riddle didn't die completely. You-Know-Who used to claim among the Death Eaters that he'd achieved immortality. The prevailing theory is that Riddle became some sort of spirit and could return to life with help from outside."
"He definitely's a ghost! You know..." Ron blurted out before realizing the twins had no idea what he was talking about. He fell silent.
Richard shot Ron a reproachful look.
"Know?" Fred repeated, glancing at Richard.
"Now I'm curious what you're keeping from us," George added, fixing Richard with an equally inquisitive stare.
"You don't need to know," Richard said. His voice was as hard as steel, and his gaze turned icy. "The only thing we can tell you—in strict confidence—is that last year we had the misfortune of encountering Tom Riddle's ghost."
"Oh!" Fred looked at his younger brother with open admiration. "Little Ronnie—and you never told us? That's brilliant!"
"Oh, shove off," Ron grumbled. "Let's hear what else Richie's got to say."
"What else is there to tell?" Grosvenor spread his hands. "The information has already been passed on to the Queen, the Minister for Magic, and the Department of Mysteries. Pettigrew has been handed over to the Aurors. Tomorrow he'll stand trial before an emergency closed session of the Wizengamot. There's a ninety-nine percent chance he'll be sentenced to death."
Richie chose not to mention that Peter Pettigrew would most likely be turned over to the Department of Mysteries for Avada-related experiments—in reality, to the Grosvenor Workshop. One way or another, Peter would not survive there for long.
"But what about Black?!" Harry asked anxiously. "He's innocent!"
"Yes, he is. So?" Richard replied, raising an eyebrow.
"But the Aurors are still looking for him!" Harry insisted.
"Not anymore." Richard shook his head. "Black was granted an amnesty over the summer. Nobody's interested in him now."
(End of Chapter)
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