Two old friends, locked in a fight to the death.
Lupin was getting the better of Sirius Black.
He cast spells even more often than a Ministry of Magic Hit Wizard. Lupin spent most of his time in the forest, where he dealt with Fantastic Beasts and dangers using magic. And he often had to handle Werewolves who had no business being there.
He had already been an excellent student at Hogwarts. After graduating, he had spent his life among dangers.
His reflexes and familiarity with spells far surpassed those of the Hit Wizards.
He was also much more familiar with them than Sirius, who had been locked away in prison.
Facing Sirius, Lupin threw out several curses. Sirius hadn't expected Lupin's skills to have not only stayed sharp after all these years, but to have grown even more formidable.
They traded spells back and forth, but Sirius was being suppressed, forced back step by step.
He had spent over a decade in Azkaban. It was a wonder he even remembered how to cast spells.
"Black, you shouldn't have come here!"
Lupin said, then hit Sirius Black with another curse, sending him flying to the ground.
Sirius clutched his ribs and coughed.
"Cough, cough, cough."
He felt a sharp pain between his ribs.
At least Lupin hadn't gone for the kill.
Lupin stepped forward, his wand held steady and pointed at Sirius. He said solemnly, "Tell me, Black, why did you come here? Do you expect me to help you?
Absolutely not.
When you betrayed James and Lily, you should have known this day would come. You should have known you'd die alone and miserable.
I won't kill you. I'll hand you over to the Ministry of Magic and let the Dementors carry out your sentence."
Lupin said, keeping his eyes fixed on Sirius.
"No, no, you can't do that. Dementors? Those things are disgusting.
Besides, Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm back then, not him."
Someone spoke slowly from behind Lupin.
Lupin jumped in fright. Without turning around, he fired two spells toward the voice, but they bounced off a shield and flew aside.
Dewey strode out.
A shield appeared before him.
Lupin's heart sank.
He remembered the report in the newspaper.
Two people had escaped from Azkaban this time.
One was Sirius Black, standing right in front of him. The other was Dewey.
Strangely, Dewey didn't seem intent on attacking.
He stood to one side, cast Protego, then said, "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to persuade you to surrender.
You can hear me out before deciding whether to fight me.
Here's the story. It happened over a decade ago—sorry, I can't be bothered to figure out exactly how many years it's been. During those dark days, Professor Trelawney made a Prophecy.
We all know Divination is a profound art, at least to those of us who aren't experts. But Trelawney has an astonishing gift for Prophecy. Do you understand what I mean?
She's a born Diviner.
Her talent for Divination is greater than anyone else's. Even Dumbledore can't match her in that field.
Right, right, sorry, Sirius, don't interrupt me like that. I've been locked up for too long. Even if I met a little dog on the street, I'd want to grab it and talk its ear off.
I'm a chatterbox? What, you don't like it?
Then I'll get back to the point.
This Diviner made a Prophecy. She said Voldemort would be defeated by a child. Based on the timing, there were two possible candidates.
One was your friend's son, Harry Potter. The other was Neville Longbottom. The best thing about Professor Trelawney's Prophecy was that no matter which one Voldemort found, the Dark Lord would fail.
All right, let's leave that aside for now and talk about Harry Potter.
Voldemort acted personally to eliminate the threat.
In that situation, Dumbledore came up with an excellent way to hide the Potter family.
The Fidelius Charm, right?
It needed someone—hm?—someone to take the Fidelius Charm and serve as its Secret Keeper.
As long as they kept the secret, even if Voldemort pressed himself against the Potters' window and peered inside, he wouldn't be able to see Lily and her family.
Under those circumstances, the Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm was naturally Sirius Black, wasn't it?
Everyone thought it made perfect sense.
A brave, fearless Pure-blood wizard. A tough man who would never, no matter what, give up a secret. Right?
But Sirius Black didn't think so. He was too clever, wasn't he?"
Dewey looked at Sirius, whose face was full of pain.
Astonishment mingled with his anguish. He couldn't understand how Dewey knew so much. It wasn't quite the same as what he'd told Dewey beforehand.
Dewey smiled.
Lupin took two steps back, making sure he could keep both Sirius Black and Dewey in view.
"Go on,"
he said to Dewey.
His expression was grave, giving no hint whether he believed Dewey's story.
"Fine. But, Lupin, keep both your hands where I can see them. Otherwise, I'll use the Killing Curse on you. Believe me, I'm capable of anything."
Dewey said with a wild, unhinged laugh. For some reason, the sight of his smile sent a chill through Lupin.
He felt as if the man before him knew everything, as if he could see right through people.
More importantly, he was a madman—a calm, composed madman.
Lupin hated madmen.
Seeing that Lupin was behaving himself, Dewey continued, "All right, where was I? Oh, right, I was talking about being too clever, wasn't I?
That's right, too clever. Black thought he had a brilliant idea. What was the saying? 'When man thinks, God laughs.'
Our friend Mr. Black changed the Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm.
And who did he change it to? Peter Pettigrew.
You didn't think much of Peter, did you? You trusted him, but looked down on him, right?
Peter Pettigrew, a cowardly, forgettable, pitiful little thing.
You didn't trust Lupin either, I'm guessing because he was a Werewolf, right?
Most Werewolves were working for Voldemort. You were afraid Lupin might have ties to them too, so you didn't tell him about this—or Dumbledore.
As soon as Peter Pettigrew became the Secret Keeper, it all began.
He was already Voldemort's spy. The moment he became the Secret Keeper, he betrayed his good friends.
The Potters were discovered.
No matter how noble a lion is, how could he stand against Voldemort?
That night, Voldemort came to the Potters' home. It was raining hard outside, so it was noisy. Voldemort used magic to open the front door. James was in the living room on the first floor, wasn't he? One Avada Kedavra, and James was dead.
He used the same spell on everyone, Avada Kedavra, right?
Unfortunately, he was a master of Dark Magic and never imagined there was another kind of magic in this world: the magic of love.
Its power was no weaker than Dark Magic, and he failed.
On the second floor, he was stripped of his body by his own rebounding spell.
Voldemort wasn't defeated by the Boy Who Lived.
He lost to the magic of love.
He was defeated by a little Muggle-born lion cub he'd always looked down on. He was struck by his own Killing Curse.
But he was a terrifying man, wasn't he? Even when hit by his own Dark Magic, he still didn't die.
He left the British Isles, waiting for a chance to return. Do you understand, Lupin?
Sirius is innocent. He needs your help to catch Peter Pettigrew!"
Dewey told the story with vivid enthusiasm.
Lupin felt himself sweating. As Dewey told the story, he felt as though he had been transported to that night, to the moment Voldemort broke into James's home and killed the couple.
His palms were clammy with sweat, which made him deeply uncomfortable.
His heart was racing.
Even Sirius Black had his eyes wide open, staring at Dewey as if seeing him for the first time.
After Dewey fell silent, the place was very quiet, as if only the mountain wind were blowing.
"How... how do you know everything?"
Sirius Black asked hoarsely. He remembered never telling him any of these secrets. Dewey had described so many things as if he had witnessed them with his own eyes.
Apart from Voldemort, no one should have known what happened in the final moments at James's home.
Lupin tightened his grip on his wand and looked at Sirius. From what he knew of him, Sirius didn't seem to be putting on an act.
He could see panic and fear in Black's face.
"There's only a fine line between a madman and a genius, Black."
Dewey said with a wild, unhinged laugh. "There's nothing strange about knowing these things. What matters is that I kept my promise, Black. I didn't hurt your friend. I've carefully explained what happened to him. Now it's time for your friend to make a choice: believe us, join us, and make an Unbreakable Vow in my presence—or resist to the bitter end and insist we're all lying."
Dewey finished in one breath, then quietly waited for Lupin's answer.
Lupin's answer was simple.
"Expelliarmus!"
He cast Expelliarmus and disarmed Black. Dewey understood his choice.
"Sorry, Black."
Dewey laughed wildly, his voice like Bellatrix's.
"Protego!"
He cast Protego ten times in front of himself, then looked at Lupin and mercilessly cast Stupefy.
The first Stupefy was blocked. Lupin retreated. The second Stupefy came, and Lupin blocked it, retreating again!
Three, four, five, six, seven!
Dewey seemed tireless, like a spell turret, firing Stupefy after Stupefy with relentless consistency. After blocking several of them, Lupin finally couldn't keep up.
"One good trick will get you everywhere!"
Sirius watched as Lupin initially managed to cast a few spells in retaliation, only for them to bounce off Protego. Before long, Dewey had figured him out. What was so special about an Apprentice's Stupefy?
The pressure!
Not every Stupefy could be deflected. Just look at Lupin now: he was being driven back step by step and couldn't even Apparate. Dewey didn't pant or chant; he only had to wave his wand, like he could go on forever, beating Lupin until he questioned his life.
Because he cast spells with a wand, each White Card cost one point of magic. That meant Dewey could cast Stupefy with the same strength 120 times, if he wanted to.
Lupin deflected the seventh Stupefy, but the next one finally hit him. He passed out!
The late-spring cold snap gave him a headache.
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