HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

When West and Harry arrived in the hall, Sirius was sitting at the long table wolfing down his food, clearly having not had a proper meal since escaping from Azkaban.

The candlelight flickered on the long oak table, illuminating the three figures.

West regained his seventeen-year-old physique, so he no longer needed to drink the anti-aging potion at the Potter mansion.

He sat down, and Harry followed him down beside him, his emerald eyes fixed on Sirius, as if he wanted to say something.

"Let's eat first," West said.

Angie happily served them food, whispering to Harry, "It's so good to see you back, Harry, my little master."

"Thank you," Harry said.

"Oh, kind little master, he actually thanked Anqi..." Anqi started crying again.

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. The only house-elf he had ever interacted with was Dobby—were all house-elves like this?

"Alright, Angie, you can go now." West noticed Harry's embarrassment and told Angie to leave first.

After Angie left, Harry visibly relaxed and began to eat. He hadn't had a proper meal since Aunt Maggie's arrival.

It has to be said that the food at Potter Manor is much better than at the Dursleys' house.

Once Sirius had filled his hungry stomach, he finally had the energy to turn his attention to the Potter brothers.

He looked up, and his grey eyes, once admired by the girls at Hogwarts, were now clouded with a thick layer of gloom.

He looked at West, whose figure had grown taller, and was deeply shocked.

"Vester, what's wrong with you...?"

"The Black Curse."

Could the Dark Curse make someone suddenly grow up? Sirius wondered, but seeing West's impatient expression, he didn't ask anything.

For some reason, West seemed to loathe him—perhaps he thought he was the one who betrayed their parents? Maybe this was his last supper with them, and they would soon send him back to Azkaban…

"Um, so what exactly happened that night, Sirius?" Harry asked.

Sirius's sunken eyes suddenly lit up. "You're willing to listen to my explanation? You believe I'm not a traitor?"

"Tell me about it, Black," West shrugged, "or I'll have to contact Dumbledore and send you back to Azkaban."

Sirius lowered his head and said in a hoarse voice, "I'm not a traitor... but I've essentially killed your parents..." He choked up, "I persuaded Lily and James to replace the Secret Service with Peter..."

"The night they died, I went to see Peter to make sure he was alright, but he was gone—I started to get scared—"

"When I arrived at the place where your parents lived, the house was destroyed, and I saw their bodies... I knew Peter must have done something bad, and that was my mistake."

He couldn't continue, his eyes red-rimmed, and he turned away in a disheveled state.

"So that's how it is," West murmured. He was right; the traitor really was Peter Pettigrew.

Harry was pale. His fork pierced through the steak, making a sharp scraping sound on the plate.

"So you killed him? Killed that filthy traitor—" Harry said, his eyes burning with rage.

This is the information West just revealed to Harry—from the outside world's perspective, Peter Pettigrew has already been killed by Sirius.

"I thought so—I killed him, went to Azkaban to atone for my sins, until—"

Sirius's eyes were bloodshot and filled with hatred. "I saw his Animagus in the newspaper—he's pretending to be a rat, and he's doing just fine."

"So you escaped from Azkaban to kill him?" West asked.

"Yes," Sirius said, "It was my fault, and I want to make amends."

"Wait... the rat in the newspaper?" Harry muttered, feeling the food he'd just eaten churning in his stomach. "You mean Ron's rat?"

Sirius nodded. "He was missing a finger, so I recognized him easily."

West looked at Harry in silence.

"...What are you looking at me for?" Harry said irritably, grabbing a handful of his messy hair. "Do you think I'd bother counting Ron's toes?"

He was extremely depressed, never expecting that the traitor who caused his parents' deaths had been hiding right beside him all along.

"I'm going to catch him!" Sirius gritted his teeth.

"The Weasleys are still in Egypt," Harry said. "We have to wait until Ron and the others get back."

West slammed his hand on the table. "Catching Peter Pettigrew won't be difficult," he said, turning to Harry. "Don't rush, go back and get some rest. If you're really feeling down, go play with your Firebolt—"

"We will make the traitors pay, Harry."

Then he looked at Sirius, "You stay here for now, don't wander off, and don't cause me any trouble."

"...Okay." Sirius was holding his breath, but he still obediently complied.

He was inexplicably a little intimidated by West.

"Where are you going, West?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Go find someone."

After West finished speaking, he left the hall, leaving Harry and Sirius looking at each other in bewilderment.

As darkness fell, West arrived at Spider's End Alley.

The low, brick-walled houses were crammed together, and the air seemed to smell of pungent chemicals.

The house I remember was located deep in the alley, with its exterior bricks crumbling and some windows boarded up.

Heavy curtains blocked the window, letting in only a little light.

West took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

He stood quietly at the door, waiting for a while before the wooden door slowly opened a crack, and a magic wand was precisely pressed against his throat.

West stood still.

He greedily examined the man's exposed pale wrist—beneath the worn black robe cuffs, the blue veins were slightly bulging from the exertion.

Her naked gaze climbed up to the man's tightly pursed thin lips, and then to his beautiful, sharp, icy eyes and brows.

Snape's expression was cold, and he applied slight pressure with his wand. "Who are you? Fools who trespass on other people's property usually don't live past tonight."

He stared unkindly at the young man in front of him, who was about the same height as him.

The familiar voice brushed past my ears, bringing a strange shiver.

The man's name hovered on West's tongue, almost escaping his lips. He calmed himself, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "Dean..."

Snape's pupils contracted sharply as he sized up the person in front of him.

Her slightly wavy red short hair, tiny freckles, and those always-smiling dark green eyes evoked a sense of familiarity.

"...Vest?" he took a deep breath and whispered.

"It's me, Dean," West replied obediently.

Snape grabbed his sleeve, pulled him into the room, and closed the door.

"Side effects of soul fusion?" Snape muttered to himself, his voice cold, yet he instinctively cast a few check charms on West.

Everything is normal, no medication was used.

Snape's expression became even more complicated.

West's gaze remained fixed on Snape's face, which made Snape feel a chill run down his spine.

He suppressed his strange feelings and looked West up and down again. "The fusion was successful?"

"Yes, Dean."

Without hesitation, West told Snape about his past life—of course, omitting the time he spent as a ghost following Snape.

As proud as Severus was, he would certainly not want his student to see his disheveled youth, even if the student was actually older than him.

Snape hadn't expected West to tell him these things, and the concept of reincarnation was beyond his comprehension.

He remained silent for a moment, scrutinizing West's sharp features, and could no longer associate the dangerous young man before him with Lily.

How old are you now?

"Probably seventeen," West replied obediently.

"So you went out of your way during the holidays to sneak into alleys teeming with Death Eater spies just to tell me this?"

Snape didn't know what to say. He wasn't one to show concern for his students verbally, so he could only offer a curt remark.

"Don't worry, Dean, I've hidden it well..." West said softly, concealing the infatuation in his eyes.

Snape turned around abruptly as if electrocuted, forcing himself to ignore the hidden fervor in the young man's eyes.

"And, Dean," West said, "Sirius Black is at Potter Manor."

Snape's body stiffened.