Disclaimed
Author's note: This chapter is short, but the next one is crazy long to make up for it. Recycle, Reduce, Review!
The Basement
By Marz
Chapter 13: Kicking My Credibility in the Shorts.
The good news was I knew Black was not a liar or entirely out of his mind. The bad news was there was a rat running around the school, who knew that I knew that he was a murderer. As I sprinted to Dumbledore's office I added Crookshank's innocence to the good news category.
As I passed, a group of sixth years shouted after me something about 'Mad Potter', another train of thought derailed in my mind. What if Dumbledore didn't believe me? What if he thought I was nuttier then a jar of Skippy and called in the psychologists again? Then I wondered what I was worried about. Dumbledore believe I'd fought a basilisk summoned by Tom Riddle on the evidence of a decomposing diary. My still bleeding rat bite should be more then convincing.
I was about to pop a lung when I finally reached the gargoyle and of course the password was the fiftieth candy I thought of.
"Toe-jam tarts!"
I stumbled up the staircase and burst through the door. "Professor Dumbledore I've found…"
The kind hearted and attentive head of the school was not sitting at his usual junk cluttered desk, and though I wouldn't put it past him, I was fairly certain he was not under the desk either. Instead, Professor Snape was sitting in front of it.
"What do you think you are doing here Potter?"
"I needed to talk to Professor Dumbledore." I said, trying to back pedal. "I'll try back later."
"You will not. Come here Potter." Snape stood and pointed to the chair he had just vacated. "Sit."
I went, dragging my feet the entire way. I sat on the very edge of the seat. I didn't think lice could survive in the oil rich environment of Snape's hair, but I didn't want to take any chances with the head rest. Snape stood in my foot space, and leaned over me.
"Now what pitiful little problem does precious Potter expect the headmaster to suffer through? Not trying to get out of the detentions you have earned, skipping my class today are you?"
"I need to talk to him about Sirius Black."
Snape's jaw clenched. He swooped down on me so fast I fell off the edge of the chair.
"And what did you have to tell him?" Snape glared down at me as I tried to pick myself up off the floor.
"I'm telling Dumbledore, not you!"
That wasn't what he wanted to hear. Snape grabbed the front of my robes, pulled me to my feet, and shoved me into the chair. He didn't let go of my robes and with every syllable he shook me around.
"What do you know Potter?"
It was more then a little annoying. Part of my brain was telling me to keep cool and keep my mouth shut. Unfortunately that part was somewhere near the back, so all it could do was wince as I said "I don't know anything, isn't that why I get such lousy grades in your class?"
Snape looked ready to hit me. The veins in his forehead all stood out and I was worried his skull would explode all over me. Then I heard the skittering feet.
I turned and saw the rat, peeping out at me from beneath Dumbledore's desk. I kicked the chair back wards and dropped to the floor, leaving Snape holding my school robes. I dodged around him and dove for the rat. My hands just barely brushed its tail. I scrambled around the desk. The rat charged towards the bookshelves lining the back of the room. I launched myself at it, kicking up huge folds of the carpet. My hands closed over the squirming gray thing. I had time for one triumphant "Ha!" before Snape grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to my feet again.
"What do you think these antics will accomplish?" he growled.
He tried to slap the rat out of my hands. The little voice in the back of my brain, that tells me to do smart things, let out a wail of agony as I kicked Snape in the knee. I think that's the point where the little voice went on strike.
As Snape stumbled, I backed away. I ran to my school robes, which he'd dropped on the floor, and fished out my wand.
"Put it down Potter!" he roared, drawing his own wand.
"It'll run away." I objected.
"The wand Potter! Put the wand down or I will be force to curse you."
"Shut up and listen!" I shouted. "This isn't a rat." I waved the aforementioned animal at him and it screamed bloody murder, well squeaked it anyway.
"Then what is it?" He said, inching closer.
"It's a wizard."
Snape raised an eyebrow.
Slowly I pointed my wand at the rat. "It's an Animagus."
I focused on the spell Black made me learn and a blue jet of light shot into the rat. It squeaked in protest, but nothing else happened. I held the rat up close to my face, and either Scabbers had re-grown a toe and gotten a dye job or I had done something really stupid.
"It's the wrong rat," I said.
"Petrificus Totalus," said Snape.