Again, many thanks to my lovely beta A. C. nelli for their time and effort on TBA. Much appreciated!
I won't keep you any longer, because despite my best efforts at brevity, this went beyond 10K. There's just so much going on in this chapter and there seems to be no good place to cut it (unlike the Halloween one).
Enjoy it anyways? And also the new cover art?
(coughs)
Chapter 10:
The Pettigrew Problem
The air grew colder and the first signs of snow fell as the Holidays drew nearer, and most of the student body was tittering with excitement over the upcoming festivities and the break soon to follow. Already, the halls were decked with garlands of red ribbons, shiny gold and silver balls, bells and mistletoe; beautiful crystalline snowflakes and stardust fell from the Great Hall's sky blue ceiling past holly studded candles; Hagrid could be seen dragging pine tree after pine tree ready to be put up and dressed into ornament laden Christmas trees; and recent conversation among the populace turned to talks on where and how they will be spending the holidays (as well as who will and will not be staying over at school for the break).
But for some, the coming season was not the only thing they had in mind.
For Harry, Hermione and Neville, the three were eager to find out more about who this Nicholas Flamel person was since Hagrid let that secret slip. But just as it had been in the old timeline, they weren't getting anywhere close to finding out a single thing about the ancient wizard. The frustration was so palpable on his friends' faces that Ron had been tempted to just tell them outright. However, he also felt that the effort they are putting in on the research would work in their favor in the long run. At the very least, it gave Hermione and Ron a perfect excuse to encourage Harry and Neville to finish their homework.
And if he was being entirely honest, Ron's focus was completely elsewhere.
Christmas is coming soon. The red head thought to himself, idly spinning Charlie's old wand between his fingers while waiting for his fellow club members at the Ancient Runes club classroom. With Harry at Quidditch practice, and Hermione and Neville coming to watch (at the latter's insistence for a break from all those books), Ron figured going to the club earlier for some time alone to think. Which means I have to hurry up with my plan for that rat. If I play my cards right, Sirius will be free before the holidays, and maybe with Sirius being released earlier, he can get Harry out of those bloody muggles' place. To think Harry had to live in that hellhole for seventeen years in the past, just because of some blood magic. As if there was no other way.
While admittedly, according to Hermione, the blood protection magic was pretty strong stuff and may not be easy to replicate. But was it worth the years of emotional abuse and neglect Harry had to suffer in the Dursleys' hands? The thought of letting it happen left that awfully bad taste in Ron's mouth the same way the thought of letting Ginny anywhere near Riddle's Diary again would.
(Not to mention the fact that not doing anything about Pettigrew would mean letting an innocent bloke stay longer in Azkaban.)
So screw Dumbledore with this one, Ron will find a way to get Sirius out of Azkaban and give Harry a shot at having a real, loving family.
What I need now is the right time to do it. Now let me see where—
"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley."
—GAH! Ron nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice piped up from his left. "Professor Hui?"
The goblin lecturer smiled in serene amusement at his reaction. "My, were you in the middle of a heated debate with yourself? I apologize for intruding then."
"A—ah, no, I was just…err, thinking of something. Nothing too important." Ron said quickly.
"Ho? But, if I may say so, your rather intense expression earlier tells me otherwise." Hui then shrugged. "Not that it is any of my business, but I hope it is not indicative of any trouble?"
The red head shook his head quickly. "No, Professor Hui."
Hui's beady eyes on him were sharp, and Ron felt for a moment that he was under the scrutinizing gaze of his Head of House. But the look was gone in the next moment when Hui nodded with a smile. "For your sake, I would hope so. One troll is enough adventure for this year, isn't it?"
You have no idea, Professor. Ron kept his eyes on the short lecturer who made his way to the desk. The boy then blinked owlishly when he saw Hui draw a wand from his robe and waved it about.
Stacks of papers re-arranged itself into separate columns on the desk, and the stones laid out on the wood became smooth of the ink previously on their surfaces. But what Ron focused most on is the fact that—
"You have a wand, Professor Hui?" Ron then blushed in embarrassment at his outburst. "I mean, sorry, it's just that—"
"—you thought goblins are not allowed to use wands, yes?" But Hui waved the apology away. "It's no problem, Mr. Weasley. My goblin features are so strong that most of my students mistake me for a full one on first sight. My wife always said that I should let my students know of my heritage when I first meet them, but sometimes I forget." The goblin tapped his chin. "Although I do remember having used my wand several times before during class…"
"Oh, so you're a half-goblin then?" Ron said hurriedly, wishing his ears would stop burning over him making a fool out of himself again. "Like Professor Flitwick, from Charms?"
"From my mother's side, bless her soul. Passed on to the great beyond just a few years back," said Hui. "So indeed, I am legally allowed to own a wand. But I find it a huge pity, the fact that my goblin kin are not allowed to wield it. Wands are some of the most fascinating conduits for magic, I think. One of the few that are as unique as the wizard who wields them, and have enough magic in them to become quite sentient."
"Sentient?" Ron leaned forward, very interested. "As in, they can have a will of their own?"
"Seeing as how they are made of parts of creatures and magical wood, certainly." Hui nodded with a smile. "Look at it this way: of all those you will meet in life, there are some who are more drawn, more compatible to you than others, yes? Wands work the same way. Some will respond to you better than the others you will try in, say, a wand shop. But that is not the end of it! As the wizard and wand spend more time together, the wand is strongly influenced by its wielder's traits. Some may even take on those traits themselves."
Ron took all of Hui's words on this with a growing sense of awe. That explains a lot about Charlie's old wand then! Bloody thing must have gotten a bit of his hard-headedness too! Not to mention the temper!
"But if I may ask, why the interest in wandlore, Mr. Weasley? Are you perhaps looking to become a wandmaker yourself?"
"Huh?" Ron caught up with the conversation in time to hear the question. "Oh no, not at all. It's just—well," He raised his wand. "This used to be my brother's wand, but since we couldn't—I mean, my parents passed it on to me. It hasn't been the most cooperative wand. I managed to work my way around it for a while, but lately, it's been," He paused to consider his words. "Difficult. Yeah, it's been difficult."
"Is that so?" Hui's eyes shone with interest. "It is ill-advised to pass wands around like an heirloom. Not just because of the compatibility problem, but because some wands perceive it as an insult, and the inheritor will get the brunt of its anger." Hui held out a hand. "May I see it?"
Ron handed Charlie's old wand to the half-goblin, who studied its length from behind gold-rimmed lenses.
"Hmm, ash wood, 12 inches. And its core?"
"Unicorn tail hair."
"Ah, even more challenging." Hui said, his smile dropping slightly. "One of the most devoted wands one can get, bordering to obstinate. And from the way it feels," His thin fingers held it aloft. "The wand is, for the lack of a better term, furious with you."
Ron winced. "I thought as much. But I read somewhere that incompatible wands weaken the wielder's magic, yeah? It's that way sometimes with this wand," the levitation charm class came to mind. "But there are times when it actually overpowered my spells. Does that make sense?"
Hui paused thoughtfully. "I can see it happen. Most wand woods and even some cores, such as dragon heartstring and basilisk fang, are capable of storing a limited amount of magic. Perhaps your brother's wand, in an act of rebellion, acted out by hoarding a bit of it then letting go without warning? Or perhaps latching onto your energy, forcing too much of it all at once? Wandlore is an incredibly complicated study, Mr. Weasley, because its focus is on what can be considered a created living being that is, to a degree, similar to homunculi, shabti, shikigami—"
"Homunculi?" Ron felt his tongue twist at the foreign words. "Shae—? Shike—?"
Hui coughed. "Apologies, I went off topic. Another time, perhaps."
"…Right. But is there any way for it to be, err, less furious with me? My family…we can't really get a new wand right now. Especially since my sister will be starting here next year."
Hui frowned. "There could be a way, but I won't advise it for long term. You would never be able to reach your full potential with a wand that didn't choose you."
"And it won't be long term. Just enough to get me by the year. Please, Professor."
Hui stroked his chin thoughtfully after returning Charlie's old wand. "While ash wood wands are some of the most easily offended, they are also some of the most loyal. This is all theoretical, mind you, but I would wager that it still has some attachment to your brother. If you could get him to ask the wand to work for you, it might help."
The eighteen-turned-eleven blinked owlishly. "That's it? Charlie just needs to ask it nicely?"
"Respect goes a long way in this world, Mr. Weasley. That goes for wizards and magical creatures as well as for wands. Granted, this is all just in theory and, again, not an ideal long-term solution. You would do best to find your own wand in the near future."
Ron nodded, already knowing that he'll get a new wand come third year. "That was amazing, Professor Hui! How'd you know so much about wands?"
The half-goblin coughed. "When I am not lecturing or assisting Professor Babbling, I indulge in crafting and inventing things, including wands."
"Wicked! So you're like the Mr. Ollivander of the goblin race!"
Hui smiled. "I can only hope to reach the same level of talent as their esteemed family." He then paused thoughtfully. "Hmm, now that I think about it…perhaps this is fate."
"Sorry?"
"I have a proposition for you, Mr. Weasley. If you're willing, I wish to take you on as a prospective client. I will make a wand for you based on my assessment of you and, if the wand is a good fit, you may keep it as payment for your time."
"Wh—what?!" Ron's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "You—you'd give me a new wand? Just like that?!"
"I've been making wands for a few of my friends and clients, but they are mostly from the East, and I have been looking for someone here in Europe to network with. Unfortunately, most wizards here are still strongly prejudiced against those of goblin blood, so it has been, ah, trying. But you look like the sort who can see past that, can't you?"
Ron coughed. "Well, to be honest, most of the goblins I've met are a bit on the mean side. But you're all right in my books, Professor Hui. Would be nice if there are more goblins like you, really. Err, yeah you're a half-goblin but, you know what I mean."
"Perfectly." Hui nodded easily. "But trust me on this, there are nicer goblins out there. It just takes a while to get them to warm up to you."
"Anyway, back on topic, if I agree to try out your wands and find one that is perfect for me, I get to keep it for free?" The familiar uncomfortable churning at the thought of receiving any charity was back in Ron's gut at the thought. It was a known family pet peeve of the Weasleys to frown upon any of the sort, having survived long hard days of meager necessities with nothing but their wit and resilience. Also, he had been taught that accepting charity was a way of inconveniencing someone else.
"A true Weasley," Septimus Weasley once said. "Would rather bear all the weight of the world than to be a source of trouble for anyone."
"Not completely free," answered Hui. "I'll be keeping tabs on how the wand performs every now and then. And I will need you to demonstrate some spells for me so I can have a visual review. Of course, if sometime in the future, you will be able to buy a wand, you can still keep my creation as a spare should you need it. I only ask that you practice with it every now and then. The same need for periodical reviews still apply, after all, and the wand might feel neglected if you leave it for too long."
"But say I—well—do something to earn the wand? I, I don't have any—" Ron coughed. "That is to say, I can maybe—"
"There is no need for payment, because this is, as a business person would say, a test run," said Hui. "This will warrant further discussion should you choose to agree, but unlike Mr. Garrick Ollivander, I plan to be more of a personal wandmaker."
"A personal wandmaker?"
"It is a tradition known only by the most privileged of families here in Great Britain. In fact, some, albeit distant, members of the Ollivander family continue to be personal wandmakers to this day," said Hui. "Recall what I said about wands being some of the most unique magical conduit? While it is true that there is a high chance you will find a wand that is a good match for you in a wand shop, only a wand that is truly made for you can unleash your fullest potential. That is what a personal wandmaker does: study their clients, find the ideal wood and cores based on their findings, then measure and fine tune their compatibility. Even personalize the appearance of the wand, like say, carve int into an unusual shape or add ornaments. Of course, it is a very time-consuming process, and very specific. That is why only the wealthy can afford their services."
Add ornaments? Like Malfoy Sr.'s snake-headed wand? Ron mentally scoffed. Wouldn't be surprised if that loaded elitist prick can afford a personal wandmaker… "So why are you offering yours to me?"
"Because for one that is not yet well-reputed, becoming an established personal wandmaker is the best way to start their career." Hui answered smoothly. "Now, I am not planning on being a wandmaker full-time, but I do intend to become an established personal one at some point, and you will become one of my early prospects in Great Britain. Not to mention I will learn more from crafting wands from my experience with you, no doubt, so from my view, I am getting as much out of this as you are."
Now that he puts it that way… Ron mulled over the offer. All things considered, it's not a bad deal. Professor Hui seems to be a decent bloke who really know his stuff.
Besides, there is the idea of owning a wand made by someone other than an Ollivander—personally made for him to boot—that sounded so appealing…
Ron nodded. "So how do you want this to go, exactly?"
Hui's face became as bright as a Lumos Maxima.
It was a chilly but clear afternoon when Ron knocked on the open door of the Transfiguration classroom, a few hours before meeting with the Arithmancy club while his friends went off to dinner (except for Harry, who had to attend Wood's daily Quidditch practices, the poor bloke.) "Professor McGonagall?"
The Gryffindor Head of House looked up from the papers she was grading on her desk with a nod. "Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Weasley?"
A relieved smile appeared on Ron's face as he strode into the classroom. "If you're not too busy, Professor. Just wanted to ask about something I read. You said I ought not to practice advanced magic on my own, and I reckon that makes a lot of sense. But this got me real curious, and since you're the Transfiguration professor, I thought you'd be the best person to ask."
By the end of his sentence, he had reached the nearest desk, plopped his things onto it, and pulled one of the books from his stack.
Transform Thyself: A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration for N.E.W.T and Beyond
It had been a bloody pain to find this particular book, because it was one of the few in the library that carried information on the particular subject he wanted. It was a good thing that Pince had become so used to seeing him in her domain and nosing in on higher year level texts that he was able to get some recommendations, or he would have spent far too long looking around.
McGonagall's brows rose when she saw the embossed words on the cover. "That is sixth year level reading material, Mr. Weasley."
"Not trying anything on it, I swear. But I have to say, what I've read so far is really interesting!" Ron leafed through some of the pages. "Turning flesh into steel. The human head into that of another animal's. But there's one thing that really got to me." He then turned the book around when he found the right (pre-dog eared) section for the professor to see.
A small smile flitted across McGonagall's lips. "Ah, yes, Animagi."
"The book said that it is the pinnacle of Transfiguration mastery, and that it is so difficult that only a few wizards can do it!" Ron only had to partially fake his excitement. The idea of becoming an Animagus had been fascinating to him since he found out the truth about the Marauders. It always made him curious how they managed to do it as third years and what animal he could have been if he and his friends managed to do it themselves.
Not to mention the fact that this section is the perfect excuse for knowing about Animagi in the first place, thought Ron. Which is exactly what I need for this plan to work.
(Besides, if he was going to have to live with being mistaken for a studious magical prodigy, might as well get some use out of it!)
McGonagall pushed up her glasses. "Human transfiguration is the most dangerous of all the sub-branches of the subject. There are too many ways it can go wrong, and when something goes wrong in human transfiguration, more often than not, the damage is irreversible. It is why it cannot be emphasized enough that practicing such techniques is strictly within N.E.W.T level. On the other hand, those who do have the talent for and the dedication to Transfiguration, such as those who seek to apply for its Mastery, are required to be able to do all applications of Transfiguration successfully, including the Animagus transformation."
Ron pretended to be shocked. "Does that mean you're an Animagus too, Professor?"
The old woman's eyes glowed. "But of course! After all, one of the requirements of being a core subject professor is to attain mastery. But before you ask, no I will not tell you what my Animagus form is. You will find out for yourselves come third year. And also, the study of becoming animagi is not taught until seventh year, and even then, we touch on only theory. If you truly wish to become an Animagus, you will have to either apply for post graduate study, or train under a mentor who has already attained mastery."
Post graduate study? Now that was a particular path Ron had never thought about. He was vaguely aware of its existence because Bill had to study for Charms mastery in line with his curse breaker position, but he never delved into the specifics because the old Ron would have avoided studying (let alone a school book) if he could.
Ron decided to file that information away for future reference, going back to the topic on hand. "So, what you're saying is that students need the help of a Transfiguration master to become an Animagus? Is that set in stone?"
McGonagall frowned slightly. "Not in the strictest sense. There are some Animagi who managed to complete the transformation from working on their own." Her gaze then sharpened. "But do not even think of doing just that, Mr. Weasley. I don't care how bright of a student you are—"
"Oh no, no, Professor. I swear, I've learned my lesson after what happened with the troll." Well, not really. "What I'm trying to get at is, the book here said that as of now, there are only ten officially registered Animagi?"
"Twelve." McGonagall corrected. "Has been for the last five years."
Ron heard her mumble something like "need to convince Albus to get a new edition," before continuing. "But what if there are Animagi who are unregisted? Is that possible?"
The wise witch's gaze became even sharper, though Ron could see a hint of approval behind her steely eyes. "Technically speaking, yes. The process of becoming an Animagus is not strictly monitored for reasons I will never understand, considering how dangerous it is," she said in a tone that told Ron how strongly she felt about the matter.
"But isn't that bad? I mean, with all the pets and animals around here, how are we supposed to know that one of them isn't an Animagus?"
"I highly doubt that any self-respecting Animagus would want to spend the rest of their lives as someone's pet toad," said McGonagall, clearly amused.
Try a pet rat. Ron mentally rolled his eyes. "But say it is possible, is there any way you can tell if an animal is an Animagus in disguise?"
McGonagall paused thoughtfully before nodding. "Indeed, there is. I would know, because I myself created that spell."
"Really?" Now that caught Ron by surprise. He had read about this beforehand, so he already knew that the spell existed. But the text did not say anything about his Head of House being its creator. "But isn't that spell some sort of charm? I mean, it makes sense for it to be a charm unless the spell turns the Animagus into another—"
"Just because my mastery is Transfiguration does not mean it is the only area of magic I am proficient in." McGonagall said matter-of-factly. "I daresay I am quite capable at Arithmancy and Charms."
Right… Ron blushed darkly."Sorry, Professor. Meant no offense."
"None taken." The return of the amused smile on McGonagall's face made Ron think that she was having too much fun out of all this. "Now, since I can tell you will not let this matter lie, I suppose I can demonstrate the spell for you." She gestured to the cage on top of Ron's books. "Is that your rat, Mr. Weasley?"
Finally! "Had to bring him for our Charms class today," Ron said animatedly as he placed Scabber's cage on McGonagall's desk. The smelly old shoe brush was currently out cold after Ron overfed its lazy arse. And thanks to the Muffiliato painstakingly cast on the cage (a real struggle, given how Charlie's old wand was with him lately), Scabbers wouldn't be able to hear much of anything. "We were doing the color-changing charms. That's why his fur's still all yellow."
(Although Ron could have lifted the charm like the rest of his classmates did to their pets after class, but really, why would he do that?)
"It will do. Now, before we begin, I must emphasize that this spell will simply give us a visual cue that the creature is an Animagus. It will not undo their transformation, which will require a more complex charm." McGonagall raised her wand. "The spell I am about to show you is a variation of the Revelio spell which, when cast successfully, will make an animagus glow white while in their transformed state. It won't have any effect on anyone else. Watch closely."
Ron could hear his heart thud in his chest when McGonagall spun her wand in one, two circles before finishing with a downward point and saying—
"Professor McGonagall?"
Bloody hell! Ron swore he had to hold onto McGonagall's desk to stop himself from jumping a foot in the air. "Percy? What the hell are you doing here?"
The bespectacled Weasley frowned in bemusement. "I was going to ask about something about Career Advice. But never mind me. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, err, just asking Professor McGonagall about…stuff." Ron mumbled while cursing a mile in his head. He hadn't planned on anyone but himself and McGonagall being here for Pettigrew's reveal, and certainly not Percy. He knew how much the other boy cared for Scabbers in the past, had been more attached to the rat than Ron had ever been. While the time traveler never knew how his older brother found out the truth about their old pet (if Percy had ever found out at all), the youngest Weasley son felt that any way was better than this.
If Ron himself, who only had Scabbers for two years, had felt so betrayed and furious after that reveal…
"Err, Professor?" Ron began uncertainly. Perhaps he could postpone this until Percy was done so that his older brother won't have to see this?
But it appeared that McGonagall hadn't noticed his reluctant tone. "Ah, yes, Mr. Weasley. Just a moment. I will get back to you after I finish my demonstration for your brother."
"But Professor, maybe Percy's question is more important? I can wait if—"
"Do not fret, Mr. Weasley. This won't take long." McGonagall said with a wave. "That is, if it is agreeable with your brother?"
"No trouble at all, Professor. But," Percy became even more confused. "What is all this about even? And why is Scabbers here?"
"Mr. Ronald Weasley here has been reading too far ahead, and wanted to know if there is a way to detect an Animagus. I was in the process of demonstrating the spell." McGonagall readied her wand again. "Rest assured, this will not harm…Scabbers in the slightest."
Shite. Ron clenched his fists with a grimace as he watched her go through the wand movement again.
"Animagi Revelio!"
There was a rush of wind, like a whistle in Ron's ears, a beat of silence, and then…
Percy blinked. "Professor, should Scabbers be glowing?"
Ron winced. I'm so sorry, Perce.
McGonagall's face turned as white as the light around Scabber's body. "Wh—what in the world?!"
"Professor!" Both Weasleys shouted in concern when the old lady nearly stumbled from nearly backing away into her chair.
"Merlin, how is this—?" She pointed at Scabbers. "That rat—it's an Animagus!"
Percy, who had been halfway past the desk, barely managed to brace himself against it in shock. "What?!"
Ron hated having to act dumb, but he had a role to play. "P—Professor, when I said that pets could be Animagi in disguise, I…I didn't think—! I never would have thought—"
Perhaps seeing two students in shock and at a loss was what made the Head of House gather her wits, raising her wand again. "Expecto Patronum."
Almost immediately, a spectral cat shot out of McGonagall's wand before settling at her feet. McGonagall gave it quick instructions to "Find at least two of the nearest and available faculty. Tell them there is an emergency situation at the Transfiguration classroom and to come here at once, then go deliver the same message to the Headmaster."
Ron watched as the cat tilted its head then gently bumping it against McGonagall's leg before taking off in a cloud of white dust. It reminded him of his own Patronus and made him wonder if he could still get his terrier to show up again…
"Stupefy!" McGonagall aimed a stunning spell at Scabbers before addressing the two Weasley boys again, her eyes and wand trained on the cage on her desk. "You two, step back. I'll secure this rat as best I can until the other Professors arrive. In the meantime, I will have to ask you a few questions about it."
Ron was about to open his mouth when he felt himself being pulled firmly to the side. He squawked in protest when he realized it was Percy's arm wrapped tightly around his front. "Perce, wha—?"
"S—Scabbers was my pet first, had been for around," The older boy's brows furrowed. "About ten years. Found him in the garden and since we couldn't afford extra money for a pet, I asked if I could keep him. Everyone else was poking fun at him, that all Scabbers did was eat and sleep, practically useless. But he was such a quiet pet, and he never got into trouble, and…"
"Ten years." McGonagall was frowning, but her tone was gentle. "Mr. Weasley, most rats—magical or not—don't live past three years, and none that I know of went beyond five."
Percy's face crumpled. "He was the first thing I had that was mine. I…I didn't think that…! If I had known…!"
The devastated, horrified look on Percy's face, those words that Ron could feel and relate to so well, were too much for Ron to bear quietly. "It wasn't Percy's fault he didn't notice that! He really cared about Scabbers! You probably wouldn't have thought anything bad about your pet unless it bit you hard on the nose!" He remembered how proud Percy had been when he handed Ron Scabbers last July, how he told Ron what a well-behaved pet Scabbers was and would not be difficult to look after, and that maybe someday, if Ron too did well in school, he'll get to have his own owl…
"Ron!" Percy hissed while tugging at Ron's shoulder but the younger boy refused to back down.
"If it's anyone's fault, it's that—that thing's!" He let a bit of his hate for Pettigrew bleed into his words. "What's the bloody deal with this thing, masquerading like a garden rat for years?! What is he even?! A loon? A criminal on the run? A bloody pervert?!"
The other two in the room with him visibly turned green at those words. Percy's grip around him became even tighter.
"I am not blaming your brother, Mr. Weasley." McGonagall, to her credit, remained gentle but firm. "And you are correct, the only one to blame here is, whoever this Animagus is. But other than his age, is there anything else you can tell me about him? Like habits? Disappearing at odd times?"
"Well, like what I just mentioned, for the most part, Scabbers just eats and sleeps. But since I haven't kept him in a cage like Ron does, I can't say for certain if he hadn't run off at times," said Percy with a tone full of regret. "In hindsight, I should have done the same."
"Stop it, Perce. The lazy oaf didn't give you a reason to put him in a cage, being such a good rat and all." Ron countered with a shrug. "Eh, what else is there to say about him? He's easy to knock out when you overfeed him, he sheds so much I won't be surprised if he coughs out hairballs, and…" Ron made an elaborate gesture of tapping his chin. "I always found it odd, how one of his paws is missing a finger. At first, I thought something may have bitten it off, but with a finger that small, how can whatever that bit it not get the rest of the hand, err, paw?"
"A missing—" McGonagall took a closer look at the stunned rodent, before frowning even more. "That is…odd. A missing finger, it sounds almost like…"
The sound of hurried footfalls echoed at the back, followed by a sharp call. "Minerva."
Everyone in the classroom turned to see two other figures walking briskly into the room, one dressed in full black, while the other in shimmering aquamarine.
"Amalie, Severus." McGonagall nodded sharply at the approaching Durand and Snape.
"Emmy, if you would, Minerva." Durand corrected. "What seems to be the problem?"
McGonagall gestured the glowing rat on the mahogany wood. "An accidental discovery, thanks to Mr. Ronald Weasley's academic curiosity. His rat is actually an Animagus in disguise. I will need your assistance to undo the transformation and to contain him until the Headmaster arrives."
Snape sent an unreadable stare at Ron and Percy before drawing out his wand. "Is it stunned?"
"Yes, but I doubt it will hold once we manage to turn it back into its proper form. Someone should be ready to restrain it, as it will most likely try to escape."
Snape and Durand traded looks. Durand cleared her throat. "Very well, Minerva. I will be the one to help with the detransformation."
"Wise choice." Snape backed off slightly while Durand stepped forward, wand aloft, while McGonagall vanished Scabber's cage away.
"Children, please step back," said Durand over her shoulder. "This could be a bit shocking to see."
"Thank you, Professor." Percy barely managed to get out. Ron nodded grimly.
McGonagall raised her wand. "On three, Emmy."
"Right. One,"
Snape kept his wand aimed at the glowing Scabbers…
"Two…"
Ron tried not to complain when Percy's grip on him was starting to hurt…
"Three!"
A flash of light, radiant white and almost neon blue, then a rushing sound, and before everyone's eyes Scabbers began to change. It was as grotesque as Ron remembered, from the way Scabber's body appeared to bloat up, followed by sprouting of human legs, the shrinking of his tail, his arms enlarging, before his ratty, balding head shot out of his formed shoulders like an inflated balloon.
Pure loathing surged through Ron's being at the sight of the pathetic little man. Pettigrew!
Apparently, the rest of the adults recognized him as well, for at that moment, McGonagall had let out a sharp cry, Snape's eyes widened in visible shock while Durand gasped. "Isn't that—?"
In their split-second shock, they failed to notice that the stunning spell was lifted, but Ron saw the awareness flitting back into Pettigrew's vision. Knowing that it only took a second to begin the transformation back into a rat, and because there was no way in hell Ron was going to let the bastard get away, the red head, pushed himself off Percy, his own wand drawn.
Please, please, please, don't screw up on me now!
"Ron, what are you—?!"
"STUPEFY!" He roared over Percy's protest, a second after Snape cast his own stunner, sending Pettigrew flying by the sheer force of their combined magic, breaking the table in the process. Pettigrew let out a squeak, but Snape didn't let up for a second, conjuring thick ropes to bind the traitor up and casting an additional petrification spell for good measure.
"Good reflexes, Mr. Weasley." Durand said breathlessly with a nod of approval. "Perhaps we could make a duelist out of you in the future."
"Err, thanks. Saw Professor McGonagall do it earlier. Cast it without thinking." Ron half-lied. "So…Scabbers, I mean that man, do you know him, Professor?"
Durand frowned. "If my eyes don't deceive me, that is Peter Pettigrew, isn't it?"
"It is." McGonagall said tightly. "Recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, famed for cornering the mass murderer and Death Eater Sirius Black before being killed along with twelve others."
"And yet here he is, down to his hand with a missing finger." Snape said venomously, and Ron could imagine the gears turning in his Potions professor's head.
"S—So he's a hero, then? Because he tried to fight a Death Eater?" Percy's voice shook, obviously on the verge of being overwhelmed. "But then what was he doing, hiding in our garden? Why did he let us keep him as our pet?"
"A hero, you say? This pathetic, pitiful waif of a man?" Snape stepped aside, showing Pettigrew in his full sniveling glory, with a sneer. "Spare yourself such idiotic thoughts, Weasley."
"With all due respect, Professor Snape," hissed Ron who stepped in front of Percy. "That thing had been my brother's pet for ten years. I'm sure you'd feel as out of sorts as him were you in his shoes, yeah?"
Ron could feel Snape's eyes boring into his but the boy kept his gaze on Pettigrew, not giving the man the opportunity to read his mind.
Before anyone else could say anything, there was another knock on the door.
"Minerva?"
"Albus!" McGonagall relaxed a fraction when everyone turned to greet the approaching Headmaster. "Thank Merlin! This situation is a lot more complicated than I expected."
"Yes…" Dumbledore's eyes appeared grave behind his spectacles when he saw the crumpled fat man on the floor. "This is quite a predicament, indeed. We need to secure this classroom first. In the meantime, Severus…"
"Yes, Headmaster." Snape bowed out with a billow of his black robes. Ron guessed it must be to retrieve some Veritaserum, though he was honestly surprised the man didn't keep a regular supply of it on his person.
"Now then," Dumbledore pulled his wand out of his robes, and with a wave, levitated Pettigrew's body into the air. Ron felt his Deluminator from Death warm in his pocket and put his hand on top of it, a pinch of worry in his gut at the thought of the Hallows being somehow able to alert its owners of the others' presence (if that was even possible).
"The rest of you, please make yourselves comfortable. We will have much to discuss before Severus returns."
The time before Snape's came back had been a blur for Ron.
Even if he had to talk a lot and answer several questions, being the technical trigger for this series of events, the whole time spent in dimly lit classroom, settled behind one of the desks near the front was rather uneventful. Not that Ron was complaining though—it was nice to have a lull time like this, before the second wave that was bound to come soon. It also gave him time to worry over his older brother.
Since the reveal, Percy had been sullen, even despondent, his face showing off such a myriad of warring emotions that Ron had been concerned that the older Weasley would suddenly snap. But while Ron kept his distance from his brooding brother, a part of him felt like he should be doing more. But what comfort could he offer? Would Percy even want it?
Surprisingly, it was Durand who noticed him distancing himself from Percy and gave him some advice.
"Give him some time, Mr. Weasley. Minerva mentioned that Pettigrew had been his rat for ten years?"
Ron nodded weakly.
"He must be feeling very conflicted and hurt over a lot of things, on top of reeling from the shock. Just be there for him, but do not be pushy. Show him that you can be trusted with whatever he is going through. Also, do not neglect to take care of yourself."
"I'm not the one who had Scabbers for ages."
"But you still had him for a time. Or can you honestly tell me that you haven't felt any attachment to him, no matter how little?"
The boy's silence was answer enough for Durand. "Acknowledge that you have those feelings, Mr. Weasley. Only then can you be able to help your brother to do the same."
"…Thanks, Professor."
Ron was shaken out of his memories when Snape appeared at the classroom doorway, holding a small vial of clear liquid.
"Ah, Severus, good," said Dumbledore, rising from his own chair. "Everyone else has just finished filling me in on what has happened. I believe now is our once little friend, Mr. Pettigrew's turn?"
Ron stood up as well, standing next to Percy, when Dumbledore pointed his wand at Pettigrew's chest and mumbled. "Rennervate."
Pettigrew let out a wet cough before opening his beady eyes to Dumbledore's twinkle-eyed stare. Ron could smell the fear radiating from the rat-like man in waves. "P—Professor Dumbledore?!"
"Ah yes, Peter, it's been too long." Dumbledore began lightly. "Merlin's beard, the years have not been kind to you, if I may be honest."
"Professor, p—please let me explain. There is—there is a very good reason for—for all of this!"
"As I am sure you do, Peter. But before we begin, I must ask," Dumbledore adjusted his glasses. "How did you manage to become an Animagus?"
"H—Huh?"
"You first came to Hogwarts in 1971, then disappeared shortly after James and Lily Potter's deaths in 1981. On average, it would take a Transfiguration mastery student five years to complete their Animagus transformation, and even then, that would be under the guidance of a master." Dumbledore went on. "In truth, unless you have been holding out on your Professors, you were at best an average student, barely passing Transfiguration, according to Minerva. So am I correct in thinking that it is unlikely that you did this on your own? Maybe even had help from some of your friends?"
Pettigrew flinched and gnawed his lower lip. Snape's own mouth curled in distaste. Everyone else waited with baited breath.
"I…I may have had a bit of help."
"From who, exactly?"
Pettigrew hesitated again, which looked utterly ridiculous to Ron. The rat had literally spit on the bonds he used to have with his friends a long time ago, when he betrayed Harry's parents to Voldemort. What's stopping him from spilling the secrets of the Marauders?
"James and Sirius, back in school." Pettigrew finally answered after what felt like ages of waiting. "James was brilliant…amazing in Transfiguration. And Sirius…he was no slouch in it either. They…they were the ones…they're the ones who became Animagi first. Then they showed me…they helped me…"
Harry once suspected that somewhere deep down, Pettigrew felt guilty for everything he's done. That he still thought of Sirius and Remus as his friends somehow. But…
"Whatever I felt for her was not enough to stop me from hurting her or the ones she cared for. From hating the one she died for."
Ron's eyes hardened. It wasn't enough to stop him from kidnapping Harry during the Triwizard Tournament, or trying to get us killed back at Malfoy Manor if Harry hadn't reminded him of the life debt. At least Snape had the decency to realize that he had been the same in the end.
"So Mr. James Potter and Mr. Sirius Black were unregistered Animagi as well. Interesting." Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully. "They must have thought very highly of you, to have included you in their endeavor. You three, along with Mr. Remus Lupin, have been such good friends during your stay here. I have always wanted to know, just what could have possibly pushed one good friend to betray another?"
"It was Sirius!" Pettigrew jumped against the ropes still holding him in place. "Sirius, he, I don't know how it could have happened, Sir. Maybe he had been jealous of James all along. Maybe the pressure of being attached to the Black family name got to him. But he did it! He became James and Lily's Secret Keeper just to hand them to the Dark Lord!"
Percy stiffened from beside Ron while McGonagall pursed her lips. Dumbledore simply nodded.
"Ah, Sirius, Voldemort's" Cue more flinches from everyone except Ron and Snape. "Infamous right hand man, the one with whom you had a confrontation with on that street, leading to your death, as well as twelve other muggles. Killed by a blasting curse so horrific, it obliterated everything but your finger."
Pettigrew instinctively hid his damaged hand from view when Dumbeldore stared at it meaningfully. "But as we can all see, that was not the entire truth, was it?"
"…He was mad! Barking mad!" The rat man began to tremble, whether from genuine fear or mere theatrics, Ron couldn't bring himself to care. "Sirius, he, he was going to kill me! He knew I was onto him! He chased me, I—I had to run! I had to hide! I wasn't…I wasn't going to let him come after me next!"
"I understand. It must have been terrifying. Sirius had always been a fierce duelist, stronger than you have ever been. Confronting him directly could have gotten you killed."
"Y—Yes! Yes, exactly!" Pettigrew tittered excitedly. "Sirius didn't even hesitate, even if it meant killing me in front of those muggles, he still did it! He thought he'd get rid of me, then get away! But he didn't! He got caught! Just like what he deserved, for betraying James and Lily!"
"So, you think it is just right, for the Potters' betrayer to be condemned to Azkaban for the rest of their days? Even if it was your old friend?"
"H—He is a traitor! He betrayed James, left…left their son an orphan! He deserves the—the worst in the world!"
"Then why hide among us?"
All heads swiveled to Ron's direction, who found that he couldn't take any more of this lying coward's drivel. The boy's hands were shaking and clenched with rage, his blue eyes burning so furiously they may as well be shooting fire.
"If you're such a big hero, if you're really the good friend you say you are, then why did you hide?" Ron spat angrily, shaking off Percy's frantic attempts to keep him quiet. "Sirius was already captured! He was already locked up in Azkaban!"
"You—you don't understand, Ron!" Pettigrew spluttered. "Sirius, he, he has many connections. Among the Death Eaters, he…he could have sent someone to finish his dirty work! There were still others out there, who would have—"
"THEN WHY MY FAMILY?! WHY DIDN'T YOU GO TO DUMBLEDORE?! OR ANYONE ELSE WHO COULD BLOODY FIGHT BACK?!" Ron exploded.
"R—Ron," pleaded Percy. "Ron, please, stop—"
"WE WERE A PLAIN WIZARDING FAMILY, AND A LOT OF US BACK THEN WERE STILL KIDS! IF THOSE DEATH EATERS FOUND OUT YOU WERE WITH US AND CAME FOR YOU, WOULD YOU HAVE GIVEN YOURSELF UP? OR WOULD YOU HAVE LEFT US TO DIE? WOULD YOU HAVE MADE MY BROTHER DIE FOR YOU, THE SAME WAY YOU MADE THOSE MUGGLES?! YOU SICK BASTARD!"
"Ronald—"
"YOU LIED TO US, YOU PIECE OF SHITE! YOU USED US! AND NOW YOU HAVE THE BALLS TO SIT THERE AND ACT LIKE YOU'RE THE VICTIM, WHEN YOU'RE JUST A SPINELESS SCUM!" Ron sneered over Pettigrew's sniveling. "Someone like you, I wouldn't be surprised if you're the real traitor! That you're the one who blew up that street and killed those muggles! That you're the one who handed Harry's parents off to Voldemort!"
There was a collected gasp around him, but Ron did not care, because this trash of a wizard was begging for his face to be caved in, and boy was Ron going to let him—
"OOF!" But before Ron could say anything else, he felt himself being manhandled the second time that day, and being pulled straight into his brother's arms. "OI! PERCE, GEROFF! I'M NOT DONE WITH—!"
"I'm sorry." The utter brokenness and grief in Percy's voice quickly killed what was left of Ron's rage. " I'm so sorry, Ronnie."
…Huh?
"I'm afraid Ronald has a point, Peter." From the top of Percy's arm, Ron could see Dumbledore gesture for Snape. "But it is not something a little bit of Veritaserum cannot solve."
"W—What? Verita—? No, no there's no need for that! I—I told you—!"
"Everything, I understand. But an old man has to be sure. Because if you were indeed as innocent as you claim, then you should have come to us, or even to your last remaining friend, Remus. You know we would have protected you. I certainly would have."
"B—But Sirius, he, he has spies! Remus—he wouldn't—"
"He believed you to be innocent, Peter, until this very moment. Let us prove him correct, shall we?"
"N—No!" Pettigrew struggled against his bonds, his eyes becoming pinpricks of terror. "No! Please, don't!"
"I'm afraid this is no longer a mere request. Minerva, Emmy, Severus, if you may."
Whatever satisfaction Ron got from hearing Pettigrew's screams and pleas as the Professors forced him still to administer the truth potion, were drowned out by the waves of guilt emanating from Percy's tight grip on him, and the way Percy seemed to sway with every word spilling from the traitor's lips under the Veritaserum's influence.
"…Did you betray James and Lily Potter to Voldemort?"
"…Yes."
"Were you their Secret Keeper?"
"…We made the switch at the last minute. Sirius thought…it was the perfect bluff. He didn't know by then…I had already taken the Mark."
"And the muggles?"
"…It was my blasting curse. I was…the one who killed them, so I could frame Sirius."
"…And the Weasleys? Why did you choose to stay with them?"
"…Because they were a magical family. They had access to all the information I needed. To bide my time…to wait for the chance to return. It was all…very well. Ronald was…he was close to Harry Potter. Planned to use him…bait Harry…present them to the others, the Dark Lord, should he return. Get the highest of honors."
"And then kill the spare, so to speak?"
"Severus!"
"He was…the least favored son. He was…expendable."
Ron winced.
…Who would have thought that scrawny Percy could have such a strong grip?
By the time the Veritaserum's effect was lifted, Pettigrew's confession had all but sealed his fate.
McGonagall had left to firecall the Ministry, Durand had gone back to the Arithmancy study club meeting, and Snape kept Pettigrew bound (and silenced) under Dumbledore's watchful eye.
Snape was particularly vicious with how he handled the blubbering man, and Ron couldn't blame him. Pettigrew had been the reason Lily Potter—who Snape loved to the very end—had died, and was taking morbid pleasure in causing the bastard as much pain and misery as he was allowed to. Would the fact that he helped bring the true cause behind her death bring Snape a bit of closure? Ron found himself hoping, if only it would make the Potions Master less bitter and miserable.
Percy, on the other hand, just looked so defeated. Right after questioning the man who was once Scabbers, it was as if all strength had been sapped from the Prefect's body, and Ron barely managed to guide Percy to the nearest chair. The older Weasley boy looked sickeningly gray, his grip on Ron's arm as tight and shaky as his dry heaving.
Panic attack. Shite! Ron promptly fell to his knees in front of Percy and seized him by the shoulders. "Perce! Perce, come on, look at me! Look at me!"
"R—Ron, I—"
"It's OK, Perce. You hear me? It'll be OK," said Ron, in the calm but strong tone he'd always use to calm a gasping and delirious Harry after a particularly bad nightmare. "Come on, breathe slowly. Follow me. Breathe in. Breathe out. Nice and easy."
"I—I can't—! I can't—!"
"Yes, you can. You're a Gryffindor and a Weasley! You're not going to let that rat get the better of you!" Ron said firmly. "Come on, big brother. Breathe. You can do this."
It took a few deep and slow breaths before Percy's breathing returned within normal range, but his hold on Ron's arm remained tight until Dumbledore offered Percy a cup of strong-smelling tea.
"I—I'm so sorry for troubling you." Percy managed to say with a rather strained voice. Dumbledore shook his head.
"It is no trouble, Mr. Weasley. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for putting you through such an ordeal. Traitor or not, Pettigrew—rather, Scabbers—had been a dear pet to you. It is understandable for you to feel so shocked and betrayed."
"But I feel that I should have…"
"Stop it," snapped Ron. "Perce, stop. It's not your fault. You couldn't have known. What matters is that he will be thrown into Azkaban and an innocent man will be freed."
"But—Ron, he—he could have hurt you! He was a Death Eater and I just gave him to you—!"
"Between us, you had the worst of it, really. He was your pet for a longer time. Good thing he didn't try to hurt you while you had him." Ron's eyes then darkened at the thought. "That bastard didn't do anything to you, did he?"
Percy appeared taken aback by the question. "Well, no, but—"
"Good, because I should have punched him in the face at least once if he had."
"Don't!" Ron nearly stumbled from the way Percy pulled him forward. "Don't you dare, Ronnie! You've done enough! Please."
A flash of temper surged through Ron's eyes. "What are you getting mad at me for?! I'm here trying to look out for you and—"
"Because you're not supposed to—!" Percy dropped Ron's arm as if it were hot coal, only to fall back into himself, head against his free hand. "For Merlin's sake, it's not supposed to be this way!"
What's that even supposed to mean?! The way Percy looked like he wanted to retreat into himself made Ron's face crumble in worry and sympathy. "Look, Perce, I'm—"
"I finally got through to them, Albus." McGonagall chose that moment to return, her lips set in a firm line. "Amelia said she will have to inform Fudge first before she and her team will come over."
"Good, good. Severus, I trust you can bring our guest here back to my tower discreetly? Let the Minister and his associates know I will be there with them shortly?"
Snape nodded, a barely contained sneer across his long, pale face. "Of course, Headmaster."
"Minerva, if you would kindly escort Mr. Percy Weasley back to the Tower and see to anything else he will need."
That made the three Gryffindors in the room look up sharply at Dumbledore. It was McGonagall who spoke. "And what of Mr. Ronald Weasley?"
Ron felt his stomach roll when Dumbledore smiled kindly his way. "Only a few words with him before he goes."
The eighteen-turned-eleven nearly stumbled when Percy shot up so suddenly. "Headmaster, with—with all due respect, Sir, Ron, he's—he's already told you everything. What else would you need him for?"
Ron's eyes widened in surprise. Did Percy just…talk back to an authority figure? Now he's really starting to worry me.
"I merely wish to clarify a few things. I promise this will not take long."
"Then why do I have to go? I'm just as involved in this! I should be here with him! I have to be—!"
McGonagall laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Come, Mr. Weasley, we can talk more in my office."
"But—"
"I'll be fine, I swear." Ron said quickly, forcing a smile on his face. "I'll see you later, Percy."
The younger Weasley kept his eyes on Percy's pained, glassy ones until his brother and Head of House disappeared from the classroom. Only then did the boy drop his smile for a troubled frown. Perce…
"He will be all right, Mr. Weasley."
Said boy turned to Dumbledore. "You sound so sure."
"When you have lived for as long as I have, you tend to develop a good grasp on how things will turn out," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "I am truly sorry you had to witness that. First, a mountain troll and now, an involvement with a fugitive. This year is turning out to be more eventful by each passing month for you."
"It's…exciting, I suppose. Not that I'm not grateful for the concern, but you really should be more worried about Percy. You saw how he was." Ron sighed. "Loved Scabbers to pieces, he did."
"A nasty shock, certainly. A very good thing that you have your wits about you."
Ron scoffed. "You're giving me too much credit, Sir. I remember losing my head with Pettigrew earlier. I acted like a brat then."
But Dumbledore's smile remained. "A momentary lapse in your temper is little compared to the way you took charge of your brother's attack, and how well you understood the potential danger Peter Pettigrew put your family in. It is rare for someone so young to be so perceptive, even more so for one raised in the Wizarding world to speak Voldemort's name so freely."
Oh. Shite. Ron sorely wished he could kick himself right now for really losing it back then. How was he going to get out of this one without raising any suspicion? It was one thing for a muggle-raised kid, like Harry and Hermione, to not fear Voldemort's name. But for those raised by wizards, who have grown up hearing horror stories of You-Know-Who and his nasty Death Eaters? Who were told again and again of how You-Know-Who was so evil and terrible that anyone who spoke his name in vain would be whisked away into his dark fortress, never to be heard of again (or worse, in pieces)?
Who grew up knowing that their twin uncles had been kidnapped, mutilated and tortured to death by Death Eaters, knowing that there were still times their mum cried with an old pocket watch to her chest when she thought no one was looking?
"…It's just a name." Ron finally said, crossing his arms stiffly. "Just a name of a bat shit insane monster who killed loads of people. But he's already dead anyway, so what? I can call that You-Boo-Hoo or You-Cuck-Coo or You-Go-Poop whatever I like!"
There was a long silence before Dumbledore did something Ron had never seen him do before.
He laughed. Not just the usual twinkle-eyed smile, or the soft chuckles he was famous for. It was a full-blown, hand-on-my-chest-because-I'm-heaving-from-laughing-too-much laugh.
"Forgive me, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore paused to actually wipe at his eyes. "It has just been such a long time, since I had reason to laugh like that. Oh, the things that come from the imagination of the young!"
Ron blinked, unsure what to do. "Err, Professor?"
"When faced with something so frightening, most people only think of only fleeing, or fighting," continued the old man. "It is a rare thing to find those who find laughter instead, and can share it with others. I, for one, believe we need more of those who can do so in this world."
Ron nodded empathically. It was another reason why he felt it was better for Fred to live instead of him back then. His brilliant older twin brothers could make the world a better place again after the war, with all the laughter they always bring wherever they—
"But," Dumbledore's tone turned hushed. "To no longer need to fear the name, for he is long dead. How true is that, I wonder? Has it ever been?"
"How true is what?"
"You are proving to be a brilliant child, Mr. Weasley. Would you mind if I called you Ron?" When the red head shook his head, Dumbledore smiled gratefully. "Your Professors and some of the Lecturers are all in agreement of how talented and studious you are."
Ron blushed to the tips of his ears. "It's, well, they make it sound way better than it really is. I'm here to learn, after all. I'm just giving it all I've got."
"Ah, a genius through effort, much like Ms. Granger, but much more sociable. I've also heard how you've been making friends in all four Houses, which is nearly unheard of among first years!"
"Utter bullocks, if you ask me, Sir," shrugged Ron. "Just because someone's from a different House, doesn't mean we can't get along! I mean, no offense, but they're just Houses!"
The twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes, reminding Ron to keep his eyes on his shoes for as much as he could. Merlin, can't the old man just let him go already before he'll end up saying something he shouldn't? Or worse, give Dumbledore the opportunity to see enough of his memories to figure out the truth?
"Is there anything else, Professor? Begging your pardon, but it's been a really long day."
"…Oh dear, I have taken too much of your time, and the Ministry might be arriving any minute now! Terribly sorry, dear boy. Yes, you may leave. I will send word regarding the proceedings as soon as I can."
Ron had been halfway out of the classroom the second after excusing himself from the Headmaster when he remembered. "Professor Dumbledore?"
"Yes, Ron?"
"Sirius, the man who got sent to Azkaban instead of Pettigrew? When word of this gets out, the Ministry will let him go, right? Not right for an innocent man to stay in that place any longer, I reckon."
"Naturally, and with compensation for all those years of unjust imprisonment, I'd expect." Dumbledore answered. "Rest assured that I will see to it that it will come to pass, and that Sirius will be in good hands once he is released from Azkaban. I know a good friend of his who will be glad to take him in."
Would have been nice if you did that ten years earlier. Ron pushed the snide comment aside, lest the Headmaster caught that stray thought in his head.
"I also daresay that Sirius and his friend will be very grateful for your part in securing his freedom, so you can expect to hear from them soon." The older wizard smiled widely. "They would be very delighted to meet you, I'm sure."
You mean they'd be very delighted to meet Harry. Still, Ron smiled back at the nice thought. Maybe with Sirius being freed earlier, before the second war will begin, they'll be able to take Harry and have a few years of peace and happiness. It wasn't much, but it can definitely be better than what they went through in the old future. Especially for Sirius.
But onto other important matters, Ron thought over as soon as he was out of the Transfiguration classroom. Dumbledore. With how much trouble I'm bound to get into while here at Hogwarts, I can't avoid running into to him, and I can't keep staring at my shoes every time that happens. Not to mention Snape! There has to be a way for me to learn Occlumency! But how? There's not a single book about it in the Library—at least, not in the not Restricted section—and there's no way I can get permission to search in said Restricted section without turning some heads!
Also, what the hell was with my reflexes earlier? If I had been alone with Pettigrew, the bloody rat would have gotten away with how slow I was! Shite eating blast-ended skrewts, I really do need to work on my dueling skills as soon as possible! Not to mention my spell repertoire, Charlie's old wand throwing tantrums, and bloody Occlumency! Halfway through the year and still so many fucking problems! If there was only a place here in Hogwarts where I can hide, that's big enough to train in, and can have everything I need! Something as good as the Room of Requirement!
…Wait a minute…
Five seconds later, Ron really, really wished he could kick himself in the arse to Mars. But for now, the best he can do is hit his head with his stack of books.
Of fucking bloody course, you fart-for-brains! Still, Ron couldn't help the wide grin threatening to split his face in half. The Room of Requirement!
I admit, I was nervous about posting this chapter.
Some of you have been asking about how I plan to handle the problem with Ron's wand and brought up good points regarding this. But since the plot of Book 1 is mostly set at this point, all I can do now is post my take on it and face the music. Does this make sense? I hope so. It does to me. :D
So yay, Pettigrew is caught! Sirius will be released two years earlier! Harry's got a shot at having a happier home life! Good job, Ronnie!
But wait, the year is only halfway done! What other shennanigans can Ron get into next?
Also, did we just make it to the end of a chapter without a flashback? By golly, we did, didn't we? (^u^)
Again, thank you to everyone who reviewed/followed/added TBA to their favorites! You guys are a huge part of the reason this fanfic is still ongoing! Much love and power to you guys! Hope this was worth the long read.
UP NEXT: An upcoming trial, Ron being back in the spotlight, and some family bonding of the Weasley kind
