Love at First Sight (Harry Potter)

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

|ALEXANDRIA WEASLEY'S P.O.V|

There were a few moments of deafening silence.

Harry's chest was rising and falling rapidly. His brow furrowed. His lips pressed together tightly as he simply stared at Lupin, at a loss.

Then, finally, Ron spoke up with a humourless chuckle. "You're both mental."

We all looked toward him, now. He had pressed the side of his body firmly against the wooden foot of the bed, almost as though trying to disappear into it. Scabbers was being clutched to his chest, Ron's palms trembling around the rat.

"Ridiculous!" said Hermione in agreement, faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry coldly. He swallowed and the lump was visible in his neck as it travelled down his throat. He pointed at Black. "He killed him twelve years ago!"

I followed Harry's finger to Black, whose face was twitching compulsively. His grey eyes were blinking rapidly — a distracting colour that proved very familiar.

"I meant to," growled Black, yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me. . . not this time, though!"

Crookshanks was thrown to the floorboards with a bang as Black lunged at Scabbers and, consequently, Ron as well. I heard my brother's scream of pain as Black landed atop his broken leg.

"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards. He seized a hold on Sirius's shoulders and pulled back, dragging Sirius back onto his feet once again. "WAIT! You can't do it just like that — they need to understand — we've got to explain —"

"We can explain afterwards," snarled Black, throwing out his bony elbows in attempt to move Lupin off of him. He stretched his arm out, his thin fingers clawing through the air in front of Ron as he tried to reach Scabbers — who was squealing like a pig, scratching at Ron's throat and trying to escape.

"They've — got — a — right — to — know — everything!" panted Lupin. He was deathly pale, losing colour from his complexion as he exhausted his energy trying to contain his old mate. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand, and Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

Black's body relaxed, but his hollowed eyes were still fixated on Scabbers. Scabbers was still clamped tightly under Ron's scratched, bitten, bleeding hands.

That rat was never getting away again, or so I thought.

"All right, then," said Black, still not adverting his gaze. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for. . ."

"You're nutters, both of you," said Ron in a breathy exhale. He glanced between Harry, Hermione, and I for support. His shoulders were trembling. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, one of his hands leaving Scabbers to grab onto the bed's thin mattress and hold his weight. Lupin raised his wand, moving his head back and forth slowly as the weapon pointed at Scabbers.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," said Lupin coldly. His voice blank and void of emotion, yet still quiet and calm. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" yelled Ron. He tried to stuff the rat into the front pocket of his trousers now, but swayed on his one leg and lost his balance. Harry left my side to catch Ron before he could hit the floor; I watched as Harry lowered Ron onto the edge of the bed.

Harry pulled his hand off of Ron's shoulder as he turned to Lupin, carefully.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said firmly. "A whole street full of them. . ."