Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (duh).

Nov. 1, 1981

Mrs. Weasley was cooking in the kitchen, but it was hard to keep her mind on her work. She and Arthur had just read the newspaper this morning, and they couldn't figure out what to make of the top story. The war was over, You-Know-Who was gone, the Potters' baby survived. James and Lily were dead. James' best friend, Sirius Black, had betrayed them, and then killed their other friend Peter Pettigrew. He had been arrested and sentenced to life in Azkaban. It was a lot to take in.

Molly didn't know the Potters very well - she was never at Hogwarts at the same time as them - but she had met them once or twice through the Order, and she couldn't believe they were dead. Her main concern was putting on a brave face for the kids. Only the two oldest, Bill and Charlie, even knew about the war at all. And she intended to keep it that way for now. There was no reason for them to worry their little heads about it, now that it was over.

"Percy," she called to the curly-haired five-year-old who was playing on the dining room table. "Go outside and tell your brothers that dinner's ready."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Yes, mummy," he said. He put down his toy cauldron and crossed the room to open the front door. But as he did, he saw something huddled between the wall and the bushes - a rat.

Percy had never seen anything so pathetic in his life. Its fur was patchy and muddy and wet, and it seemed to be bleeding from its toe. When Percy looked at it, it trembled for a second, but stared up at him with beady eyes, pleading. Percy reached down to pick it up.

"Mama, look what I found!" he said, carrying the rat into the house. "Can we keep him?"

"Percy!" Molly nearly dropped her teakettle when she saw what Percy was holding. "Don't bring that disgusting thing into the house! Put it back!"

"How do you know it's a he?" Arthur asked, sipping his coffee. "It could be a girl rat."

"Arthur, don't encourage him," Molly said.

"Here, let me see," Arthur said, reaching out his hand. The rat squirmed and his eyes bulged as Arthur held him by his tail and squinted to get a good look at his underside. "Yep, that's a he, all right."

"How can you tell?" Percy asked.

"Arthur!"

"What? What's wrong with the boy having a pet? It'll teach him responsibility. And it could be a sign. Having it show up today of all days - "

"Don't be ridiculous," Molly said. "If Percy was being responsible, he would've called his brothers in like I told him to. And you, Arthur, had better wash your hands extra hard before you eat any of my food. It just goes to show, if you want anything done in this house, you've got to do it yourself." She opened the window and shouted. "Bill! Charlie! Dinner!"

"Come on, Molly," said Arthur softly so Percy wouldn't hear. "It'll be dead in a year or two anyway."

"Hey! He's running away!"

Percy bolted toward the door to close it and keep the rat inside, but Arthur was faster. He whipped out his wand and shouted, "Colloportus!" and the door slammed shut. The rat was trapped.

"There you go, you sneaky rat," Percy said, picking him up and gripping him extra tight. "Why would you want to run away? I'll give you a nice warm bed, and lots of - hey, Daddy, what do rats eat?"

"Don't know, son," said Arthur. "Probably grass."

"Fine," said Molly. "He can keep the rat. But first we're going to wash it off. And if it bites anyone, it's gone. Deal?"

"Oh, thank you, mummy! Thank you so much!" Percy ran into his mother and hugged her so tight he nearly dropped the rat. Molly pried him away.

"Great, now I've got to wash off my apron too," she said. "Give me that rat, Percy."

As Bill and Charlie came in the back door, Molly dunked the rat into the sink and scrubbed him hard with lots of soap. She even wrapped a tiny bandage around his toe. "There," she said, handing him back to Percy. "Arthur, do you have something you can use as a cage?"

"I think I have a couple shoeboxes in the workshop," said Arthur. "Let me check."

"Now we need a name for you," said Percy. "Hm… what's a good rat name?" He ran his fingers through the rat's fur, and came across a large scab. "Hey, I know! I'll call you Scabby! No, that's not quite right… Scabbers! That's it! This is your new home, Scabbers!"

If Percy had been looking, he would have seen the rat roll its eyes.