Both Black and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew’s shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.
“You sold Lily and James to Voldemort,” said Black, who was shaking too. “Do you deny it?”
Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.
“Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can’t imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me—”
“DON’T LIE!” bellowed Black. “YOU’D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!”
“He—he was taking over everywhere!” gasped Pettigrew. “Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?”
“What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?” said Black, with a terrible fury in his face. “Only innocent lives, Peter!”
“You don’t understand!” whined Pettigrew. “He would have killed me, Sirius!”
“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!” roared Black. “DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!”
Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.
“You should have realized,” said Lupin quietly, “if Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would. Good bye, Peter.”
Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall.
“NO!” Harry yelled.
He ran forward, placing himself in front Pettigrew, facing the wands.
“You can’t kill him,” he said breathlessly. “You can’t.”
Black and Lupin both looked staggered.
“Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents,” Black snarled. “This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family.”
“I know,” Harry panted. “We’ll take him up to the castle. We’ll hand him over to the Dementors… He can go to Azkaban… but don’t kill him.”
“Harry!” gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry’s knees. “You—thank you—it’s more than I deserve—thank you—”
“Get off me,” Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew’s hands off him in disgust. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it because—I don’t reckon my dad would’ve wanted them to become killers—just for you.”
No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.
“You’re the only person who has the right to decide, Harry,” said Black. “But think… think what he did…”
“He can go to Azkaban,” Harry repeated. “If anyone deserves that place, he does…”