Chapter 372: Many Doubts
"Just like you are now, we thought back then that the four of us would stay friends until the day we died." Lupin spoke slowly, voice worn thin. "But Voldemort's rise shattered everything."
Hearing that, Dudley could not help reassessing Lupin. Very few people dared to say Voldemort's name aloud, as though speaking it might call something hateful out of the dark. Dudley, however, had long since noticed that the name had been hexed, that uttering it would trigger a particular kind of magic.
Of course, that sort of curse was a far cry from the Visionary Pathway's authority, the level where even a spoken word could become known. Dudley had ways to evade the aftertaste of such a spell, to step around its reach without letting it find purchase.
Lupin paused for a few seconds, then continued. "We received word that Voldemort meant to harm Harry's family. The solution we came to was to use the Fidelius Charm. It's an extraordinarily complex piece of magic, able to hide certain information within a person's soul, so long as…"
"I know the charm. Please, go on," Dudley said.
"All right." Lupin glanced at him; Dudley's familiarity with the Fidelius Charm felt both inevitable and, somehow, still surprising. "In any case, it needed a Secret-Keeper. Professor Dumbledore wanted to take the role himself, but James insisted it should be Sirius Black—said Sirius would never betray them."
"And you can guess how that ended." Lupin's mouth tightened. "Less than a month after Sirius became the Secret-Keeper, Voldemort came to their door and killed Harry's whole family."
Dudley listened closely and did not rush to offer an opinion.
"Afterwards," Lupin went on, "Peter Pettigrew went after Black alone. Black used a spell that blew apart an entire street, killing a great many Muggles. In the end, they found only one of Peter's fingers. Nothing else was left."
As he spoke, Lupin closed his eyes, as though the words themselves were a punishment. It was obvious he hated reliving any of it. Death and betrayal among the closest of friends was the kind of blow that broke people quietly, from the inside out. Four who had once been inseparable—then, in a single stroke, two were dead, and another had betrayed them and been thrown into Azkaban. Few people could come away from that unchanged.
Dudley stayed silent, watching and thinking, turning over the fragments Lupin had given him. He didn't take a side in the tragedy so much as hold it at arm's length, like an observer studying a case. At the same time, he let his own unusual senses settle into place.
As a Beyonder of the Justiciar Pathway, Dudley had a gift for judgement and investigation that most people simply didn't. It wasn't the razor instinct of a born detective, but the principles overlapped, and he knew how to worry at inconsistencies until they split at the seams.
After four or five minutes, Lupin's breathing steadied, and a little colour returned to his face.
"I have a few questions for you," Dudley said, meeting Lupin's eyes.
"Yes," Lupin replied with a small nod. "Ask."
"You said James Potter chose Sirius Black as the Secret-Keeper. When the Fidelius Charm was cast—were you there to witness it?" Dudley asked.
Lupin shook his head. "The fewer people who know about a Fidelius Charm, the better. Even being there as a witness is too much. Besides, you know my condition—there are times I can't control myself at all. So no. I didn't see it with my own eyes."
"Then what about Professor Dumbledore? Did he witness it personally?" Dudley pressed.
Lupin shook his head again. "I don't think so. He mentioned it, but he didn't see it happen."
Dudley spoke his first doubt aloud. "So none of you actually saw Sirius Black become the Potters' Secret-Keeper, with your own eyes. Is that correct?"
Lupin frowned, then nodded. "Yes. That's true."
"Then that is the first point of suspicion," Dudley said evenly. "If you did not witness it, then it remains possible that someone else became the Secret-Keeper. Correct?"
Lupin nodded again, but his lips parted as if to argue. "But James…"
Dudley cut him off gently. "It is only a possibility."
"Even what you see with your own eyes is not always true, let alone what someone tells you," Dudley continued. "If anything, telling the world, 'This is my Secret-Keeper,' while quietly choosing someone else in truth would be a safer way to handle it."
"Yes," Lupin admitted, sitting a little straighter. "You're right."
He had never believed, never understood, why Sirius Black would sell out James Potter. Yet now, under Dudley's questions and analysis, another possibility took shape, one he could not easily dismiss.
"Good," Dudley said. "Now for the second point of suspicion."
"You told me Black betrayed the Potters, then fled, and Peter Pettigrew caught up to him. After that, Black blasted an entire street to pieces. Pettigrew died in the explosion, leaving only a finger behind. Is that the account?" Dudley repeated, word for word, watching Lupin's face as he did.
"Yes," Lupin said.
He did not even seem to realise what was happening: that he had begun to answer Dudley the way a suspect answered an interrogator, automatically, falling into the rhythm of cooperation.
"There are several problems here," Dudley said. "First, if a wizard wants to kill someone, isn't the most common method the Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra? Why would Black blow up an entire street?"
"Perhaps…" Lupin hesitated. "Perhaps Voldemort's fall drove Black into a frenzy. Perhaps he wanted to kill, to vent it."
"Do you truly believe Black was that sort of man?" Dudley asked.
Lupin shook his head. "I don't. But if everything before it is true, then I can see how someone might claim it makes sense."
"All right. It is an explanation, at least," Dudley said, not sounding convinced.
"Second," he continued, "there were no witnesses to the fight. Every Muggle who might have seen what happened was killed in the blast. By the time the Ministry arrived, all they found was Black laughing, and Peter Pettigrew apparently reduced to a single finger and a bloodstained robe."
"That is strange," Dudley said. "Even a powerful blasting curse shouldn't erase a body so completely. And a single finger left behind, so neatly present, feels deliberate. It doesn't fit."
"Does it not?" Lupin said uncertainly. "You know what wizards are like. Logic isn't exactly our strength. And at the time, the situation seemed… unquestioned."
Dudley shook his head, weary despite himself. Wizards really did live as if reason were optional. His mind flicked back to the first year, to that absurd 'logic' puzzle of poisons and antidotes guarding the Philosopher's Stone. For wizards, that kind of thinking truly was difficult.