A/N: These are just coming right out, now. I had a long time to think
about this story. -Anna Dearest
Chapter Nineteen
"I need assurance that you won't be caught," Voldemort said lazily.
"Of course, My Lord. I do not intend on getting caught," a voice replied hastily to appease their master.
"You, at this point, are my most trusted spy. I need you to continue doing such splendid work. You say your little prank with the invisible rope worked, did it?"
"Yes, My Lord. Potter and his mutt of a godfather both fell over it. All the way down the staircase."
"No major injuries?" Voldemort asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.
"Unfortunately not, My Lord. A few bumps and bruises perhaps, but that's all."
"Well, go back to your post. Teaching them, are you?"
"Yes, My Lord. Teaching them tricks that will make no difference in the end."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"'Morning, Harry," Ron yawned as he stretched in bed.
"'Morning, Ron. It is Saturday, isn't it?" Looking at a calendar on the other side of the room, he nodded. "Good. What time is it?"
"It's almost nine. Wait...nine! Oh, no!" Ron began panicking, bolting out of bed and rummaging through his trunk for clothes. "Nine on Saturday," he mumbled. "How could I possibly forget?!"
"Ron," Harry said slowly and soothingly. "What's going on? What's Saturday morning at nine got to do with anything?"
"I, um...." Ron stuttered. "I have to go talk to McGonagall! Private lessons! She says I do horribly!"
"Ron, you're doing extremely well in Transfiguration!" Harry shouted as Ron bolted out of the dormitory. "Breakfast with Hermione, then."
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Imagine Harry's surprise when he got to breakfast and Hermione wasn't there. His first thought was that she'd overslept, but Hermione Granger proudly hadn't overslept since third year.
In a very glum mood, Harry sat down at his place at the Gryffindor table. Looking up towards the head table, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he watched Professor McGonagall conversing with Professor Dumbledore.
Throughout the day, he tried not to be suspicious, tried to ease his mind with some far-fetched explanation, but he couldn't help the bubble of bitter jealousy forming within him. Hermione and Ron were both missing in action. Harry had taken the time to ask Parvati and Lavender if they knew where their dorm mater was. They'd told him she left at eight thirty to talk to a teacher. At nine.
Finally, Harry had had enough. he bolted up the doors to the boys' dorm and opened his trunk, extracting the Marauder's Map from its depths. Unfolding it carefully, Harry muttered a quick "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Branching out like the limbs of a wild tree, the map slowly formed. Glancing feverishly across the service, Harry soon spotted both Ron and Hermione, in an empty classroom. That wasn't what caught his attention though. It was another dot, one inching towards the Entrance Hall of the school, not too far away from the room Hermione and Ron were occupying. Giving them the benefit of the doubt for a moment, Harry bolted from Gryffindor tower, following the dot on the map with his eyes as he raced through the corridors.
"POTTER! NO RUNNING!" McGonagall shouted behind him, but that didn't slow Harry in the slightest. He continued to barrel towards the Entrance Hall at a wreckless speed.
Looking back at the map, Harry found that seven addition dots had stop in front of the dot he'd been following: "Peter Pettigrew."
Harry skidded to a stop at the bottom of the main staircase. Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius, Fox, Professor Tophirk, and Reynold and Marshall Jitter were standing in a horseshoe shape, all surrounding one suit of armor. Without another word spoken, most of the group backed away, leaving only Dumbledore in front of them as he pointed his wand towards a shall, trembling shape behind the creaking armor.
Slowly, but surely, Peter Pettigrew took form, knocking over the suit of armor in the process. He fell to the floor gasping as students just leaving the Great Hall stopped in shock at the scene unfolding before them. Sirius' hackles rose as a fearful growl grew from his very core and echoed through the Entrance Hall.
"Not yet, Snuffles," Dumbledore whispered with steely determination. "Mr. Pettigrew, so kind of you to make an appearance." Gasps were heard from the slowly forming crowd around them. 'Pettigrew? He's dead!' 'That's impossible!' 'Maybe Dumbledore is slipping....' 'I heard this school had strange happenings, but this?'
"Hello, Pr-Professor."
"Reynold," Dumbledore said to the Defense Team member behind him, "Floo to the Ministry from my office. Tell one of Fudge's assistants that we have caught another murderer. I'm assuming they'll come immediately."
"Yes, Professor," Reynold said, turning and bolting towards Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore's eyes spit fire as he looked at the trembling form before him.
"Avada-!" Peter cried suddenly and unexpectedly, but he never got to finish.
"Expelliarmus!" a voice cried from the crowd. Stepping forward, Jonathan came into view, holding two wands, his own and Peter's. His own wand was trained on the traitor before him. "Filthy rat," he spat at the man before him. "You betray everyone, in the end, don't you? It's disgusting. Your friends, and then your master. I'm sure he won't be happy with your capture. Are you so cowardly that you couldn't even fight for the side you hid with? You were loved Pettigrew, and you betrayed them. You were looked out for. You're a pitiful excuse for a man."
Jonathan Riddle's eyes held an anger that none could comprehend. Usually a careless young man, he now appeared to be an aged wizard, beyond his years. He was truly a frightening sight, as he stood above the traitor. Peter looked away as the young man looked at him.
"When should Fudge get here?" John hissed.
"I'm here, I'm here!" Fudge called, bustling down the staircase. "What murderer have you caught? Is it Black again? Who is-....oh, Merlin."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"He can't be taken to Azkaban," Fudge said resolutely. "The Dementors are acting...strange. And with all the Death Eater raids? I think not."
"So where shall we keep him?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"Perhaps, er..here?" Fudge asked timidly.
"Cornelius Fudge," Dumbledore said, his voice forced calm, but his eyes a blazing inferno as he stood from his high-backed chair. "You have put Dementors on these grounds. You have had my Gamekeeper sent to Azkaban. You soiled not only my name, but the name of one of my students. You now expect me to house a true murderer?"
"Dumbledore, you must understand!" Fudge pleaded. "The Ministry has little protection, nor any fit place to keep Pettigrew. Azkaban is being raided on a regular basis. Surely you wouldn't wish to put the man who aided in his return right in their clutches?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. "It pains me to do so," he began, "but I must agree. We will arrange something shortly."
"Thank you, Albus."
"What about the rights of Sirius Black?" Dumbledore asked.
"That's a different matter altogether. Both men and various witnesses would need to testify, under Veritaserum, of course. There needs to be a proper trial."
"Even though none was required to lock Mr. Black away?" Dumbledore asked in a flat tone.
"That was not my doing! You must understand, that at the time, rounding up Death Eaters was a complicated matter-"
"No more or less than it is now."
"Indeed, Albus. But you see, with all the witnes reports, we had nothing to argue against. There must be a trial, and at the moment, that is a touch too much to ask. The Ministry is in a deep spell of trouble right now."
"You say that as if that weren't a given constant, Cornelius."
"Well, I must go back to the office. I'll be in touch after the paperwork has gone through. Sirius Black will get his freedom, wherever he is, I'm sure of it."
"To think he almost missed it," Dumbledore whispered as Fudge disappeared into the flames.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"Good of you to return," Harry mumbled behind his homework as Ron entered the common room.
"Sorry," Ron muttered. It was after dinner, and he was just now returning.
"You missed it."
"Missed what?"
"Wormtail getting caught."
"WHAT?!"
"Yes. It was in the Entrance Hall some time after breakfast. You should've seen Jonathan Riddle. He was frightening. He looked like he was about to hex Wormtail and then strangle him to death."
"Bloody hell," Ron whispered, slumping against his chair. "What else did I miss?"
"Fudge getting the shock of his life."
"Well, damn. It's about time. So, is Sirius free?" Ron asked in a low tone. Harry snorted and looked at Ron carefully.
"No, the Ministry is too busy covering up all their mistakes to free one of them."
"So he does get to see his freedom though," Ron said with a satisfied smile. "Boy, I'm glad Scab-, I mean, Pettigrew got caught."
"To think he almost missed it."
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
"He really is innocent," Frank sighed, flopping back onto his bed. "I can't believe how much has happened."
"And even more is happening now," Alice muttered. Frank only nodded. "Do you think we'll ever get to see him again? Neville?" The question took her husband by surprise, and he remained silent for a few moments.
"I don't know," he replied finally. "I don't even know what we'll see. He's not a healthy, bouncy, baby boy anymore. He's a sixth year, nearly of age. We didn't just missed fifteen years of his life, but our own life too. Are we even the same people that Mum and the rest remember? Is Neville still just as curious and clumsy? Where do we belong here? To tell you the truth, when my thoughts stray this direction, I deeply wish I were 'crazed again.
"It was so simple. Wake up, clean up, eat, sleep. That was our life, with the exception of the occasional visits from Neville or my Mum. What do they expect from us?"
Frank's rant left both husband and wife in silence, allowing the words to sink in. After all, what DID everyone expect of them?
"I'll find him," Frank said finally, breaking the aching silence. "I'll find our son or die trying."
A/N: Here you go, another chapter. -Anna Dearest.
Chapter Nineteen
"I need assurance that you won't be caught," Voldemort said lazily.
"Of course, My Lord. I do not intend on getting caught," a voice replied hastily to appease their master.
"You, at this point, are my most trusted spy. I need you to continue doing such splendid work. You say your little prank with the invisible rope worked, did it?"
"Yes, My Lord. Potter and his mutt of a godfather both fell over it. All the way down the staircase."
"No major injuries?" Voldemort asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.
"Unfortunately not, My Lord. A few bumps and bruises perhaps, but that's all."
"Well, go back to your post. Teaching them, are you?"
"Yes, My Lord. Teaching them tricks that will make no difference in the end."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"'Morning, Harry," Ron yawned as he stretched in bed.
"'Morning, Ron. It is Saturday, isn't it?" Looking at a calendar on the other side of the room, he nodded. "Good. What time is it?"
"It's almost nine. Wait...nine! Oh, no!" Ron began panicking, bolting out of bed and rummaging through his trunk for clothes. "Nine on Saturday," he mumbled. "How could I possibly forget?!"
"Ron," Harry said slowly and soothingly. "What's going on? What's Saturday morning at nine got to do with anything?"
"I, um...." Ron stuttered. "I have to go talk to McGonagall! Private lessons! She says I do horribly!"
"Ron, you're doing extremely well in Transfiguration!" Harry shouted as Ron bolted out of the dormitory. "Breakfast with Hermione, then."
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Imagine Harry's surprise when he got to breakfast and Hermione wasn't there. His first thought was that she'd overslept, but Hermione Granger proudly hadn't overslept since third year.
In a very glum mood, Harry sat down at his place at the Gryffindor table. Looking up towards the head table, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he watched Professor McGonagall conversing with Professor Dumbledore.
Throughout the day, he tried not to be suspicious, tried to ease his mind with some far-fetched explanation, but he couldn't help the bubble of bitter jealousy forming within him. Hermione and Ron were both missing in action. Harry had taken the time to ask Parvati and Lavender if they knew where their dorm mater was. They'd told him she left at eight thirty to talk to a teacher. At nine.
Finally, Harry had had enough. he bolted up the doors to the boys' dorm and opened his trunk, extracting the Marauder's Map from its depths. Unfolding it carefully, Harry muttered a quick "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Branching out like the limbs of a wild tree, the map slowly formed. Glancing feverishly across the service, Harry soon spotted both Ron and Hermione, in an empty classroom. That wasn't what caught his attention though. It was another dot, one inching towards the Entrance Hall of the school, not too far away from the room Hermione and Ron were occupying. Giving them the benefit of the doubt for a moment, Harry bolted from Gryffindor tower, following the dot on the map with his eyes as he raced through the corridors.
"POTTER! NO RUNNING!" McGonagall shouted behind him, but that didn't slow Harry in the slightest. He continued to barrel towards the Entrance Hall at a wreckless speed.
Looking back at the map, Harry found that seven addition dots had stop in front of the dot he'd been following: "Peter Pettigrew."
Harry skidded to a stop at the bottom of the main staircase. Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius, Fox, Professor Tophirk, and Reynold and Marshall Jitter were standing in a horseshoe shape, all surrounding one suit of armor. Without another word spoken, most of the group backed away, leaving only Dumbledore in front of them as he pointed his wand towards a shall, trembling shape behind the creaking armor.
Slowly, but surely, Peter Pettigrew took form, knocking over the suit of armor in the process. He fell to the floor gasping as students just leaving the Great Hall stopped in shock at the scene unfolding before them. Sirius' hackles rose as a fearful growl grew from his very core and echoed through the Entrance Hall.
"Not yet, Snuffles," Dumbledore whispered with steely determination. "Mr. Pettigrew, so kind of you to make an appearance." Gasps were heard from the slowly forming crowd around them. 'Pettigrew? He's dead!' 'That's impossible!' 'Maybe Dumbledore is slipping....' 'I heard this school had strange happenings, but this?'
"Hello, Pr-Professor."
"Reynold," Dumbledore said to the Defense Team member behind him, "Floo to the Ministry from my office. Tell one of Fudge's assistants that we have caught another murderer. I'm assuming they'll come immediately."
"Yes, Professor," Reynold said, turning and bolting towards Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore's eyes spit fire as he looked at the trembling form before him.
"Avada-!" Peter cried suddenly and unexpectedly, but he never got to finish.
"Expelliarmus!" a voice cried from the crowd. Stepping forward, Jonathan came into view, holding two wands, his own and Peter's. His own wand was trained on the traitor before him. "Filthy rat," he spat at the man before him. "You betray everyone, in the end, don't you? It's disgusting. Your friends, and then your master. I'm sure he won't be happy with your capture. Are you so cowardly that you couldn't even fight for the side you hid with? You were loved Pettigrew, and you betrayed them. You were looked out for. You're a pitiful excuse for a man."
Jonathan Riddle's eyes held an anger that none could comprehend. Usually a careless young man, he now appeared to be an aged wizard, beyond his years. He was truly a frightening sight, as he stood above the traitor. Peter looked away as the young man looked at him.
"When should Fudge get here?" John hissed.
"I'm here, I'm here!" Fudge called, bustling down the staircase. "What murderer have you caught? Is it Black again? Who is-....oh, Merlin."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"He can't be taken to Azkaban," Fudge said resolutely. "The Dementors are acting...strange. And with all the Death Eater raids? I think not."
"So where shall we keep him?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"Perhaps, er..here?" Fudge asked timidly.
"Cornelius Fudge," Dumbledore said, his voice forced calm, but his eyes a blazing inferno as he stood from his high-backed chair. "You have put Dementors on these grounds. You have had my Gamekeeper sent to Azkaban. You soiled not only my name, but the name of one of my students. You now expect me to house a true murderer?"
"Dumbledore, you must understand!" Fudge pleaded. "The Ministry has little protection, nor any fit place to keep Pettigrew. Azkaban is being raided on a regular basis. Surely you wouldn't wish to put the man who aided in his return right in their clutches?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. "It pains me to do so," he began, "but I must agree. We will arrange something shortly."
"Thank you, Albus."
"What about the rights of Sirius Black?" Dumbledore asked.
"That's a different matter altogether. Both men and various witnesses would need to testify, under Veritaserum, of course. There needs to be a proper trial."
"Even though none was required to lock Mr. Black away?" Dumbledore asked in a flat tone.
"That was not my doing! You must understand, that at the time, rounding up Death Eaters was a complicated matter-"
"No more or less than it is now."
"Indeed, Albus. But you see, with all the witnes reports, we had nothing to argue against. There must be a trial, and at the moment, that is a touch too much to ask. The Ministry is in a deep spell of trouble right now."
"You say that as if that weren't a given constant, Cornelius."
"Well, I must go back to the office. I'll be in touch after the paperwork has gone through. Sirius Black will get his freedom, wherever he is, I'm sure of it."
"To think he almost missed it," Dumbledore whispered as Fudge disappeared into the flames.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"Good of you to return," Harry mumbled behind his homework as Ron entered the common room.
"Sorry," Ron muttered. It was after dinner, and he was just now returning.
"You missed it."
"Missed what?"
"Wormtail getting caught."
"WHAT?!"
"Yes. It was in the Entrance Hall some time after breakfast. You should've seen Jonathan Riddle. He was frightening. He looked like he was about to hex Wormtail and then strangle him to death."
"Bloody hell," Ron whispered, slumping against his chair. "What else did I miss?"
"Fudge getting the shock of his life."
"Well, damn. It's about time. So, is Sirius free?" Ron asked in a low tone. Harry snorted and looked at Ron carefully.
"No, the Ministry is too busy covering up all their mistakes to free one of them."
"So he does get to see his freedom though," Ron said with a satisfied smile. "Boy, I'm glad Scab-, I mean, Pettigrew got caught."
"To think he almost missed it."
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
"He really is innocent," Frank sighed, flopping back onto his bed. "I can't believe how much has happened."
"And even more is happening now," Alice muttered. Frank only nodded. "Do you think we'll ever get to see him again? Neville?" The question took her husband by surprise, and he remained silent for a few moments.
"I don't know," he replied finally. "I don't even know what we'll see. He's not a healthy, bouncy, baby boy anymore. He's a sixth year, nearly of age. We didn't just missed fifteen years of his life, but our own life too. Are we even the same people that Mum and the rest remember? Is Neville still just as curious and clumsy? Where do we belong here? To tell you the truth, when my thoughts stray this direction, I deeply wish I were 'crazed again.
"It was so simple. Wake up, clean up, eat, sleep. That was our life, with the exception of the occasional visits from Neville or my Mum. What do they expect from us?"
Frank's rant left both husband and wife in silence, allowing the words to sink in. After all, what DID everyone expect of them?
"I'll find him," Frank said finally, breaking the aching silence. "I'll find our son or die trying."
A/N: Here you go, another chapter. -Anna Dearest.