No Good Deed

A Harry Potter thing

By

EvilFuzzy9

Rating: K+

Genre: Friendship

Characters/Pairings: Ron W., Harry P., Hermione G.; [canon ships where applicable]

Summary: Actions have consequences. Between provocation and punishment lies an impulse decision and a stroke of luck, whether good or bad, that will lead to results which few would have dreamed of and fewer still would have hoped for. Whether it is fair and whether it is right is entirely subjective.

Peter Pettigrew had a pinched, miserable look about him. Despite the width of his belly he looked very small, and it did not help the impression of his stature the way he hunched low, close to the table with his head down. His eyes were hooded, and his face was red.

"Please answer the question, Peter," said an older witch with a stern visage, sitting across from him in the small interview room. "What were you doing with that girl? Why were you pretending to be a rat?"

"Hiding," said Pettigrew hoarsely. "I was hiding from You-Know-Who's followers. They knew what I'd—I knew they were still out there—and I was scared, I was scared they'd find me and kill me."

"That was eleven years ago," said the witch. "Surely you didn't think there were still followers of You-Know-Who looking for you? Why should you, and what could you have done to warrant continued fear of their reprisal more than a decade after the fall of them and their master?"

"Black, of course," said Pettigrew, fidgeting nervously. He licked his lips. "He was their best man, and I put him behind bars. Second only to the Dark Lord! Of course they'd want to kill me."

Amelia Bones was impassive. Her face might have been chiseled from marble in every line and slightest detail, her features were so unmoving. Only her eyes might have betrayed any hint of her thoughts as they flitted searchingly over Pettigrew, but it was beyond his skill to discern them.

"It's curious. You were hiding in disguise as a pet rat, but you are not registered as an animagus," she said at length, checking a sheaf of notes. "When did you become one, and why didn't you register with the Ministry?"

Pettigrew swallowed.

"It... That was... I was in school," he said evasively, eyes moving shiftily to and fro, searching the confines of the room as if seeking a way out. "Years ago, when we were young—we thought it was so very clever of us, and it was useful for sneaking into the grounds at night. I meant to register, of course, once I was of age," he added, a lie so obvious that no legilimency would have been needed to detect the falsehood. He shrugged weakly. "But the war, and everything... I never had the chance. You understand, don't you?"

He said this a touch desperately, looking up at her with an almost pathetically hopeful expression. His face seemed especially rodentlike just then, beady eyes peering out from a nervously flushed face, and he gestured supplicatively.

"What do you mean by we?" Amelia tersely queried. "Were there others?'

Pettigrew's face colored further.

"Three of us," said he. "Me, J-James, and Sirius."

"Sirius?" said Amelia sharply. "He's an animagus?"

"Oh, yes!" said Pettigrew. "Didn't you know? He is, or at least he was... a huge black dog, when he changes. Rather like a grim, I always thought..."

Pettigrew shivered. Amelia noted that he wasn't looking her in the eye.

"I see," she said slowly, making a note. "Sirius is an animagus. Interesting. But putting that aside, I still have to wonder, why were you with the Weasleys? What were you doing, pretending to be a pet rat?"

"I told you," Pettigrew whined. "I was hiding. Hiding! The Dark Lord's followers are terrible, surely you know that. I was afraid for my life, and I didn't dare..."

He shuddered, and this time it was not merely affected.

"Why the Weasleys, though?" said Amelia. "Why the girl, Ginevra?"

"Didn't matter who, really, as long as they were a wizard family," said Pettigrew sullenly, dodgily. "So long as I could keep an ear out for news. And I didn't choose the girl; I didn't have a choice in the matter. He gave me to her when he was expelled. Ron did, the youngest boy. I don't know why, he wouldn't tell a rat his reasons; just that he thought I'd be happier at Hogwarts, maybe. He complained that I was boring, but still I think he cared for me."

Amelia frowned, and she could not quite conceal a flicker of distaste in her expression.

"But if you were with them for access to news about the war," she said, "then surely you would have heard that You-Know-Who was defeated, and his followers imprisoned. You confronted Sirius after You-Know-Who tried and failed to kill Harry Potter. You must have heard about his disappearance even before you went into hiding."

One of Pettigrew's hands rose, just for an instant, and moving as if in some conditioned response or a remembered pang it lurched toward his other arm. He stayed it before it went too far, and the duration was brief, the hand sent shortly back to rest, so that it seemed no more than a twitch or a fidget. Still Amelia marked the movement, and her eyes were searching.

"I—I heard," Pettigrew said shrilly, a twinge of distress evident in his voice. "Of course, how could I not? There were rumors, and they said he was gone, defeated, but I was still afraid, still hiding. The Dark Lord is dreadful, and he has powers... terrible powers. It didn't seem possible that he could truly die, at least not so easily. And he hadn't been alone. His followers were still out there. For a long time there were still Death Eaters at large, I understand, and then as the years passed I got used to my life, and still I worried, and even when everything was quiet I was afraid he might be out there, somewhere, waiting. I'm still afraid."

"You talk about You-Know-Who's powers like someone with firsthand experience," Amelia remarked, silently noting how inclined he was also to use the title Dark Lord for Voldemort.

"I was in the war," Pettigrew said evasively, again not looking her in the eye. "I heard enough that I could believe anything, when it came to him."

Amelia frowned. She did not let her skepticism show too much, but she was dubious, and the more she heard of Pettigrew's talk the more convinced she became of its doubtfulness. A less fastidious interviewer might have accepted the explanations of fear that Pettigrew gave for his actions, and it was certainly believable from the look of him, and his demeanor, that fear had been the man's chief motivation.

He was not telling the whole truth, however. Amelia could tell this much. Aside from that, there were many points of inquiry at which his answers grew inconsistent or suspicious. He just seemed overall disingenuous, in some way. No doubt at least part of this impression came from where and how he had been hiding, disguised as a rat, kept as a pet by a young girl, and two of her older brothers before her.

Ginny was around the same age as her niece, Susan.

"If you say so," Amelia said, eyeing him shrewdly. "You're telling me everything, then? You aren't leaving anything out?"

There was a pause. Pettigrew fidgeted.

"I'm not," he muttered. "Leaving anything out, I mean."

Amelia pursed her lips, but said nothing more for the time being.

She did not believe that one bit.

Ron sat with Fred, George, Percy, and Ginny. He felt awkward seeing his siblings in their school robes while he was dressed for home. They, for their part, looked very tired, and this was not surprising. It had been hours since Ron was brought along with his parents in the rush to see Dumbledore. Mum and Dad not been willing to leave him at home all alone, yet for his part he was beginning to wish they had.

He felt exhausted. He had not done much of anything at all except sit with his siblings and talk, occasionally, when they were able to sustain conversation of some kind. But it had been a while since the last period of talk, and that had petered out into a stilted, intermittent mumbling of weak jokes or empty platitudes well before it stopped completely. They had been here a long time, sometimes with their parents, sometimes with one or two of the aurors.

Their parents were here, now, but they were standing somewhat apart. One of the aurors, a girl with a heart shaped face and bright pink hair who must have been around the same age as Bill or Charlie, had come in a while back looking uncharacteristically grim and told them something, and they'd looked terribly anxious afterwards, almost sick.

That auror was back again. Ron thought he had rather liked her, when he first met her. Tonks, she had introduced herself to them. Just Tonks. She was funny, and she had been nice to them and tried to explain what was going on, and what would happen. They weren't in trouble, she had said, and seeing the looks on Fred and George's faces at that she had laughed a little weakly. Her smile was bright, even if a tad wan.

"Well, not yet," she had said. "But I don't think you will be, if you've told the truth. We can't be sure yet, but I think you seem like good kids."

Ginny didn't look at all happy at this. Tonks did her best to cheer her up, but she had rather less success than might have been hoped. Ginny was utterly miserable, and nothing that even Fred or George had said or done could get so much as a chuckle out of her, and she used to love their jokes.

Percy was less help still, even though he sincerely tried. But his head was too wrapped up in rules and decorum, and he had little in common with his younger siblings, and little ability to relate to them. His attempts to comfort Ginny were well meant, perhaps, but he focused on things about which Ginny seemed to care little, and some of his reassurances were a bit insensitively worded even by Ron's standards.

But Ron could hardly judge his brothers, or Tonks, or anyone else for failing to comfort Ginny. He'd done just as poorly as the rest. Probably even worse. He'd told her, trying to alleviate her sense of guilt, that he didn't mind that Scabbers was gone, and he'd never really cared that much about the rat, but this had only left her more distraught. She seemed terribly anxious and weepy, and Ron was at a loss for what to do.

This was little like the Ginny he used to know. She had always been so energetic and talkative, but now she was quiet and sad and gloomy. Mostly she just sniffled and stared around blearily, swinging between miserable and silently bewildered. It was baffling, and he didn't understand it.

"Why are we still here?" Fred wondered aloud. "We've told them everything we can. You don't suppose they actually think we knew about Scabbers, do you?"

"Dunno," said George. "But it isn't a walk in the park, is it? This is probably the longest we've ever been in a teacher's office without being given detention."

Fred laughed, but Percy tutted disapprovingly.

"That isn't funny," he said. "This really is a very serious matter, and I can't believe we had him for so long without knowing the truth. It's disturbing." He shivered, and gave Ron and Ginny a look of concern. "It's terribly suspicious, too."

"You don't think we knew?" said Ron, misinterpreting Percy's words and look.

"No, of course not!" said Percy, perturbed. "I wasn't talking about that."

But whatever it was that he had been talking about, he would neither clarify or explain. Fred and George seemed to guess somewhat of his thoughts, though, and they too looked a touch askance at Ron and Ginny. Briefly, they seemed rather discountenanced.

Again a silence descended on the group. It was not broken for a long time, not until Kingsley showed up and motioned to their parents—and Ginny, too.

"There are a few more things I need to ask you," he said to Molly and Arthur. "And Ginevra should come along, as well."

"What's she have to do with this?" asked George loudly.

"Yeah," said Fred. "She's innocent! You can't pin anything on her."

"I'm not accusing her of anything," said the auror in a deep, soothing voice, although he gave the twins an odd look. "But there a few questions I want to ask her, too, and she might as well come along now, since I'll need Arthur and Molly there when I talk to her."

Fred and George furrowed their brows. Percy frowned also.

"What have you got to ask her?" Ron blurted out, more in protectiveness than genuine curiosity.

"Just a few questions about her school supplies," Kingsley answered.

Most were bemused by this response, Ron taken aback, Percy bewildered, Fred and George incredulous and mistrustful. Their parents looked confused, and only Tonks seemed to know what Kingsley meant, unless one were to count Ginny.

Because she went wide-eyed at this remark, and something in her face betrayed a recognition or comprehension of whatever meaning the auror had veiled behind his words. She went stiff and pallid, and almost she looked at him like a hare would at the fox, frightened and cornered. But still Ginny rose and went with Kingsley and her parents, and at a loss Ron and Fred and George and Percy watched them go.

The door opened and they disappeared through it. Tonks stayed behind.

Not a moment later Harry and Hermione appeared on the stairs, followed by Professor McGonagall. The pair took one look at Ron, and they sprang forward ignoring all else. McGonagall was reproving of this in her words, and she told them to behave or else she would take them right back out, but something in her face made it seem like an empty threat.

Ron felt very uncomfortable in the hug Harry and Hermione trapped him with, but he did not try to wriggle out or push them off. He was just as glad to see them as they were to see him, even if their meeting was not under the most auspicious of circumstances. Weakly, he even reciprocated.

Then the two began talking at him, babbling in a stream of words that tumbled together like a continuous sound blended without meaning or distinction, like water flowing over water in twisting eddies and curling waves, as though all the sentences they gushed out were strung together in a single word, as long as years, that said everything and yet nothing of what they thought and wanted to know, and Ron could only sit there, bemused, and wait for them to finish. When they finally ran out of breath and let go of him, stepping back with faces as red and sweat-glazed as if they'd just run a marathon, he gave them a small smile, even while his mind wandered to Dumbledore's office and its most recent occupants: his parents, Kingsley, and Ginny.

Then he looked in his friends' eyes, brown and green and trained intently on him.

"And here I thought you might have missed me," he said wryly.

Harry and Hermione laughed, or maybe they sobbed. It was hard to distinguish one from the other by sound alone, and with their faces as they were it could have been either, or both, or neither. But then their looks became imploring, and Ron could guess what they were asking. He didn't know what to tell them or where to begin, however.

Hermione saved him the trouble.

"It's been... different, without you," she said awkwardly, looking about ready to spring up and wrap him in another, tighter hug. "Gloomier, and more boring, and less fun, and quieter, and—"

She cut herself off at a loss for words, her lips quivering and her eyes full of tears. Harry looked no more dignified, if less distinctly tearful.

"Same here," Ron said hoarsely, truthfully, looking at Harry and Hermione.

He was still worried, and there were so many things happening at once that he felt lost, like he was in a dream and watching the world fly past with no idea what to do, no power or say in how things should go. Yet he was glad, at least, to see his friends in the middle of all this mess. And even as he glanced from them to his brothers, and then the door of Dumbledore's office, he felt less lost and bemused and pinned in place.

If it was the three of them together, it didn't seem like there was anything they couldn't handle. Despite himself, and yet also perfectly in line with his heart and thought, Ron beamed at them, smiling from ear to ear. Harry and Hermione returned the smile.

For a little while, at least, they were just glad to see him, and he to see them.

Everything else could wait.

A/N: The last half of this chapter stymied me a while, partly because there were a lot of things related to it floating loosely but not explicitly yet bound, such as Ron's presence, or the whereabouts of Harry and Hermione. But I managed to muddle through both those things, and I'm rather glad I did, I think. It might not have been that long a parting, in or out of universe, but I like how their reunion turned out. A bit abrupt textually, perhaps, in terms their appearance, but hopefully still satisfying in an emotional respect.

Updated: 5-24-16

TTFN and R&R!

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