SHAMELESS PLUG!
My first original novel, Strangers In Boston, is now available on Amazon under my pen name, T.S. Mann (get it?). It's free to Kindle Prime members and $4.99 to people who want to download the Ebook. Paperback copies are available for $12.99. Check it out, and if you like it, please leave a review. Basically, it's American Harry Potter. Except there's no school, no wands, and if you use magic improperly, it can drive you insane and possibly destroy the world. No pressure or anything.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled fanfic.
Harry Potter
and the Death Eater Menace
Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.
Chapter 40: The Hunting of Sirius Black (It Gets Worse!)
The Great Hall
27 March 1994
10:30 a.m.
It had been several hours since the Deputy Headmistress had reconfigured the Great Hall in an unprecedented manner. For the first time in perhaps a thousand years, students in the Great Hall were not grouped by Houses. Instead, they were segregated roughly into three groups. The largest (about half the student body crammed into one side of the hall) consisted of those students in the grip of the Ultimate Sanction, which had apparently extended its reach from just Theo No-Name to everyone who supported him. Those supporters (Muggleborns and Halfbloods with a smattering of "blood traitors") made up a third of the student body and were situated on the opposite side of the hall. Separating them was a No Man's Land of people neither affected by the Sanction nor moved to openly support the Outcast.
And perhaps most prominent among the denizens of No Man's Land was Harry Potter, who sat at a small table, reading quietly by himself. Blaise Zabini was sitting with the CPS students, which was troubling, but on the bright side, he was sitting between Ginny and Amy, who were Harry's spies within the Pureblood group.
Having completed all his assignments, Harry was working his way through The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde while trying to figure out why it had once held Tom Riddle's interest. Nothing had jumped out at him so far, though the number of witty Wilde quotes that seemed hauntingly familiar was disturbing. His reading was interrupted by a soft bell-like sound emanating from his book bag. He opened it up and, after a few seconds of searching, produced a crumpled piece of parchment with a message in Hermione's neat handwriting on it.
Hermione: Hello, Harry. Come in, Harry. Over?
Harry chuckled and looked over at Granger's table some fifty feet away. The witch was waving at him while sitting at a table with Theo, Jim, and Ron. He pulled out a quill to reply.
Harry: I'm here. I'd honestly forgotten about this thing. We haven't used it all year. I'd have assumed the magic had failed by now.
Hermione: I know. I'm taking every class that you are plus we're in a club together, so we haven't really needed any extracurricular communication this year. I was a bit surprised as well to see it still working. I suppose there's so much ambient magic at the school that Switching Spells last much longer. So, how are you feeling?
Harry: Still a bit queasy. And also embarrassed. I don't actually remember calling you that word last night. But I remember the shocked look on your face after I said it. I know it wasn't my fault, but I still feel bad about hurting your feelings.
Hermione: Well don't. It was a silly prank done by bigots, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about.
Harry: Not just bigots, though. Some of them are people who had nothing against Muggleborns before the Sanction happened. Do you know if Neville was in on it? Because that could be … unfortunate.
Hermione: I don't think so. I saw him last night when people were coming back from the Infirmary, and he looked appropriately horrified.
Harry: That's reassuring, I suppose.
Hermione: Also, did you just add ellipses to a written message for emphasis?
Harry: … maybe?
The next image to appear on Harry's parchment was a small drawing of a face with eyes whose eyeballs were looking up.
Hermione: You probably can't tell, but this is me rolling my eyes at you.
Harry: Emotions are hard to convey through parchments, I suppose. You should invent a special language for parchment communication so that we can properly convey subtext to one another.
Hermione: I'll get right on that. Oh, on a completely unrelated note, do you happen to know the exact minute you were born?
Harry: Um, why?
Hermione: And now you're saying "um" in a written message to denote sarcasm? Anyway, it's a Divination project. I have to cast five horoscopes for friends, and they're more accurate if the moment of birth is precise. Or they would be more accurate if it weren't all nonsense.
Harry: I thought you were dropping Divination.
Hermione: I am. I was going to tell Professor Trelawney this morning, but class was cancelled for this mass study period we're all trapped in. But I'm still going to finish the last assigned project. I'll not have people say I quit because I couldn't handle the material.
Harry: That's our Hermione. Anyway, I was born on July 31, 1980 at 11:52 p.m. assuming the hospital clocks were right. I'm a Leo for what that's worth. Also, it's James Potter's birthday today if that has any cosmic significance.
Hermione: None that I'm aware of. But thanks, Harry. And I'm glad you're feeling better.
Before Harry could respond, he was distracted when an unexpected guest joined his table: Marcus Flint.
"So, what'd I miss?" asked Hogwarts' only Eighth Year student as he studied the new seating arrangement.
"War between the Cultural Preservation Society and SPAM, apparently. First blood to the bigots. They pranked our meeting last night. For the most part, it was just an hour's inconvenience, but some of us, including myself, spent the night in the Infirmary puking our guts out."
"Nice. So how long is everyone stuck in here? I'm supposed to be teaching Patronus lessons this afternoon at 4, but if the school's still in lockdown, I'm going back to the Three Broomsticks to finish packing."
"Packing?"
"I'm heading to London this weekend for the holidays."
"Going alone?" Harry asked innocently.
Marcus blushed. "Not that it's any of your business, Potter. But I'm going with Emily Rossum. Perhaps when you're older and more mature, you'll understand such things."
Just then, McGonagall reentered the Great Hall and moved to the lectern in front of the Head Table. The other Heads of House stood beside her with stony expressions.
"May I have your attention please. The Heads of House have completed our investigation of last night's dangerous prank. Will the following students please stand: Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, Oliver Wood, and Pansy Parkinson."
Slowly and with obvious reluctance, the four students stood as their names were called.
"After interrogation, these students have confessed to acting as the ringleaders of the contemptible prank that was played last night on fellow students, a prank born of bigotry and an irrational hatred of one particular student who is the victim of an unnatural and cruel magical curse. While I am convinced that other students were involved, they have refused to name any accomplices or co-conspirators, and no evidence implicating anyone else specifically has been brought forth. I will not take house points. It would be pointless to do so since there is one student implicated from each house.
"Instead, each of these students will have one month of detentions to begin upon their return from the Spring holidays. This detention will be served with me and, among other punishments, will include remedial instruction in wizarding ethics and proper behavior from Hogwarts students. Furthermore, Mr. Diggory's prefect privileges are hereby revoked for the remainder of the school year. Whether he is reinstated next year will depend upon his conduct for the remainder of this term."
Apparently prepared for the news, Cedric bore word of his demotion stoically, but there was a wave of shock and anger that passed over the CPS side of the hall. Indeed, several of the Slytherin students who Harry considered the true power within the CPS looked mutinous.
"Additionally, effective immediately, all student organizations are required to have a faculty sponsor, and organized meetings without a faculty member in attendance are henceforth banned."
At that, the murmurs of anger exploded into shouts of disapproval (mostly on the CPS side of the room), with several CPS members jumping up out of their chairs to protest the announcement. There were also some objections from the SPAM side of the hall, though less pronounced. For her part, Hermione seemed perfectly fine with the announcement, as she already had a faculty sponsor in mind.
A loud bang from McGonagall's wand silenced the arguments. "One final announcement: Fred Weasley, please stand and be recognized. Fifteen points are awarded to Gryffindor for Fred Weasley's actions in making a full confession of his own role in these affairs and identifying the ringleaders, as well as assisting Madam Pomfrey in curing those made ill by the prank. Lest anyone accuse me of House bias, the Heads of Houses are in unanimous agreement on this matter."
A stunned Fred sat back down, and George and Ron both clapped him on the back. The reaction was less positive among the CPS contingent, many of whom hissed at the awarding of points. Worse, one of them hissed "blood traitor" a bit too loud for his own good.
"And on the heels of that award, 10 points from Gryffindor for that remark, Mr. McLaggen! And a week of detention after the holidays!"
McGonagall took a deep breath to calm herself. "With that out of the way, classes are cancelled for the remainder of the day so that students may have a chance to reflect and cool down. They will resume tomorrow. I stress to you all: No further violence or bullying relating to blood status or blood politics or to the Ultimate Sanction will be tolerated! I hope I have made myself clear. You are all dismissed."
Throughout McGonagall's remarks, Harry surreptitiously studied Neville Longbottom's reactions. He was gratified to see that his friend was nowhere near as belligerent as most of the CPS contingent seemed. If anything, he seemed embarrassed and offended at the prank and almost approving of the punishments levied against Diggory and the others, though he did sneer at the oblique references to Theo and the Sanction. On the bright side, Harry was still strangely reassured that his friend wasn't actually very good at sneering.
As the students were rising from their tables (some more surly about it than others), Harry leaned in towards Marcus. "I need your help with something. It's about … our association."
Flint grimaced. "You better not screw up my romantic getaway, Potter."
The Third Floor of Hogwarts
Near the statue of Gunhuilda of Gorsemoore
12:30 p.m.
Hidden beneath the Potter Invisibility Cloak, Jim looked around to make sure no one was nearby before casting a quick Tempus. Then, following his godfather's instructions, he tapped his wand against the hump on the statue of an ugly witch that adorned this hallway and whispered "Dissendium." The statue slid to one side, revealing a passageway through which a brown rat quickly scampered.
Jim, who had never seen Peter in his Animagus form, grimaced. "I hope you're really Uncle Pete and not just an ordinary rat. I don't want to get fleas."
The rat squeaked an indignant response, and a disembodied arm appeared in midair from underneath the cloak to carefully pick it up. Soon, the arm and the rat disappeared again.
A few moments later, Jim ducked into an empty classroom, whipped off his cloak, and gently placed the rat on the floor. A second later, Pettigrew stood in its place.
"Well done, Sport!" Pettigrew said as he pulled his godson into a warm hug. "I'm very proud of you!"
Jim snorted. "All I did was open a passage, Uncle Pete. It wasn't that impressive. But can you please tell me what's going on?"
Peter placed a reassuring arm on the boy's shoulder. "I can't tell you everything, Sport, because I don't know everything. But – and remember this is all hush-hush – according to what James told me, there was an incident this morning in London where most of a city block was destroyed by Death Eaters."
"I know. It was in the Prophet."
"Well, what the papers didn't say is that one of the destroyed houses was Sirius's childhood home. He was apparently hidden there this whole time, working on Merlin knows what dark magic along with the other escaped Death Eaters. It seems that something went wrong that destroyed the house's internal ward structure and caused the whole place to explode. Or maybe it was deliberate. The Aurors aren't sure yet, but the Dark Mark was used. But the important thing is that several werewolf corpses were found at the scene. And based on that and other evidence that hasn't been publicly revealed, James thinks this proves Black and Fenrir Greyback are working together."
Peter's face grew pensive. "Sport, James thinks the Death Eaters may be targeting Remus Lupin tonight during the full moon. They've learned somehow about the potion he's been taking. Can you just imagine what Fenrir Greyback could do if he were lucid and intelligent while transformed?"
Jim was horrified. "That's awful!"
"That's why I'm here. Your dad is worried about Snape's involvement with the Wolfsbane Potion, and he asked me to keep an eye on him as only a rat with an invisibility cloak could do." The Animagus grinned at his little joke.
"You know about the Wolfsbane Potion!"
"Of course! I met up with Remus last month and he told me the Secret." Suddenly, Peter gave Jim a suspicious look. "Did he not tell you?"
"No, he never mentioned. Why? Wait, I know that look. What's wrong?"
Peter looked away for a moment. "Jim, please don't get upset, but your father also asked me to … to keep an eye on Remus."
The boy looked offended on Remus's behalf. "Uncle Pete, I trust Remus completely."
"As do I, my boy. As do I. But if Fenrir Greyback is nearby, we must be careful. There are … concerns that Fenrir could influence Remus mentally without him even being aware of it. Alternatively, even if Remus isn't under Greyback's control, he'll be in a very emotional state due to the full moon. If he sees Greyback or Black, he might be overcome with an animal frenzy and become a danger to those around him even under the effects of the potion."
Then, his expression darkened. "Assuming the potion continues to work given who's brewing it. That's why I'm keeping an eye on Snape!"
"But … Dumbledore trusts Snape! And he's been making Remus's potion all year long."
"Yes, but without knowing it was for Remus. Apparently, Snape now knows exactly what the potion is and who it's for! He was a Death Eater once. And he's hated Remus since we were schoolboys, just as he has your father. Do you not think that the Wolfsbane Potion might be exactly what he needs to buy his way back into his master's good graces?"
Jim didn't know how to respond to that.
"What do you need me to do?" he finally asked.
"Nothing, Jim," Pettigrew said firmly. "I know you're a Gryffindor through and through, but this is a job for Aurors, not students. Do you understand me?"
The man looked at his godson intently. "Jim, if you involve yourself or even tell anyone what I've told you, you could be putting both my life and your father's in danger. Do you want that?"
Finally, Jim nodded. "Okay. I guess I'll be turning in early tonight."
Peter smiled. "I promise I'll contact you as soon as possible if your father doesn't first. With luck, this whole Sirius Black mess will be done after tonight."
"You think so?"
The Death Eater gave a toothy grin. "Jim, my boy, I am sure of it!"
The Muggle Studies Classroom
12:50 p.m.
"Well, on one hand, I'll be very sorry to lose you in my class, Miss Granger," said Professor Potter, "but on the other, I'm surprised you stayed in as long as you did. At this point, you could probably sit the Muggle Studies NEWT with no problem, so I'm sure you've probably been incredibly bored in my class all year."
"You're a very engaging teacher, Professor Potter," Hermione said tactfully. "But to be honest, I think most of my enjoyment of the class has come from observing the reactions of Purebloods when you tell them something about Muggles they think is impossible."
They both laughed.
"I do wish you the best of luck, Miss Granger. And now that you're not a member of my class anymore … well, if it's not too forward, I'd also like to say how grateful I am for what a good friend you've been to both my sons."
Hermione smiled at the compliment. It was not a genuine smile, but she was far too diplomatic, especially where a teacher was concerned, to bluntly tell Lily Potter to her face what she thought of the woman's parenting skills. Her own parents might be careening towards divorce, but she was still confident her mother would never just walk away from her for any reason.
The young witch shoved those feelings aside. Right now, she needed something from the woman, and so long as Harry had no objections (and he'd said that he did not), she could smile and be polite to someone who had abandoned her best friend as a child in order to get it.
"I think all my Slytherin friends are rubbing off on me," she thought to herself before speaking aloud.
"There was another matter. Related to your class, I suppose, though not really. Professor McGonagall announced today that student clubs would not be allowed to exist unless we had a faculty sponsor. I was wondering if you'd consent to be the sponsor for SPAM."
Now it was Lily's turn to smile, and hers seemed to be completely genuine. "I'd be delighted! And I've always meant to tell you what a brilliant acronym that was for a Muggle-focused organization!"
Hermione forced out a nervous laugh. "Well, you know what they say – what could be more Mugglish than Spam!"
The "Patronus Lessons" Classroom
2:00 p.m.
When Neville entered the classroom, he was mildly surprised to see Harry waiting there along with Marcus. The older boy had sent the Gryffindor a message to meet with him, presumably about the Patronus class, but he now suspected that wasn't the case.
"Before you say anything, Harry," Neville started, "I didn't know anything about that stupid prank, and I'd have tried to put a stop to it if I had. I reckon that's why they kept me out of the loop. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Nev," Harry answered. "And I'm glad to hear you say that. But that's not why I asked Marcus to invite you here. It's about what was in The Prophet this morning. I don't know if you realized it, but that was Sirius's house that was destroyed."
Neville's eyes widened in shock. "Is he okay? And what about Regulus? And the others?"
Then, he caught himself and looked around nervously. "Wait! Can we talk about this here?"
Flint nodded. "I checked the room with a Revelio. It's clean. And there's a Silencing Charm on the door."
Then, Harry responded to Neville's earlier questions. "The Tonkses and Bellatrix are safe. Sirius and Regulus are on the run. Unfortunately, it seems the Death Eaters who are after them have access to an enchanted map that can trace Sirius wherever he goes." Harry took a deep breath. "And so, they're both on their way here!"
"What?! Why?!"
"Our plan is to smuggle them into the school and then hide Sirius in the Chamber of Secrets. It doesn't show up on the Map. The problem is getting them into the school. There are several secret ways in, but I think the safest is the one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. It's on the First Floor, but it's right across the hall from an internal secret passageway that leads up to the Second Floor and opens up near Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."
"How do you know about these secret passages, Harry?" Neville asked in amazement.
"Well, I wish I could say it was Slytherin cunning, but I have to confess that I learned about them from a variety of Gryffindors past and present. Unfortunately, while those passages are safest for Sirius inside Hogwarts, the entrance to the passage leading into the castle … is in the Forbidden Forest."
"Are you nuts?!" Neville exploded. "How can that be the safest path into the castle?!"
"I said the same thing, Longbottom," Marcus said. "But hear Potter out."
"The entry point is hidden inside a fake tree stump. It's in a part of the forest that's relatively safe … except for the hundred Dementors floating overhead, one of which apparently has a grudge against me. But Regulus knows the Patronus Charm. And luckily for me, I have some friends who know it too. We'll go down the passageway tonight at eight o'clock, meet Sirius and Regulus in the forest, and guide them into the castle together."
Neville said nothing but simply stared at him slack-jawed.
"Neville, I know how dangerous this sounds. I would never ask this of you if it weren't …."
Suddenly, the Gryffindor broke out into a broad grin. "Harry, shut up. Of course, I'll help!"
Flint snorted at the boy's eagerness. "Gryffindors!" he muttered.
"Honestly, Neville," Harry said almost irritably. "At least … think about it before you volunteer for a dangerous mission."
"Harry! You were there to save me from Quirrell. You were there to save me from Bellatrix. And Sirius is a friend as well as your godfather. Nothing is going to stop me from helping you!"
"Neville," Harry said cautiously. "I'm grateful. But you need to understand – this may well be the hardest thing you've ever done. Definitely the hardest thing I've ever asked of you."
Longbottom gave a surprisingly cocky expression for such a normally humble boy. "You forget. You're looking at the youngest person ever to master the Patronus Charm."
Harry licked his lips nervously. "That … won't be the hard part."
Then, the young Slytherin walked over to open the door to let a fourth person into the room: Theo No-Name.
The change in Neville's demeanor was instant and almost frightening. The genial grin fell away to be replaced by a glare of contempt if not loathing.
"What is he doing here?" the boy growled dangerously.
"Three Patronuses are good," Harry said. "Four are better."
Neville whirled around, suddenly angry at his closest friend. "You told him!"
"Only a little bit," Theo said calmly. "I know Harry's under secrecy oaths, as are you. But I've known since the end of First Year that Harry thought Sirius Black was innocent. And if he says it, I believe it. Harry needs my help, so I'm there for him."
"Just like I was there for you, Neville" was the unspoken conclusion to that sentence, and both boys knew it.
"I told you this would be the hardest thing I've ever asked of you," Harry said. "I know how you feel about Theo … and why. And I know most of the school feels the same. But what's at stake is more important than that. It represents everything we've been working towards for most of this year – freeing the innocent and punishing the guilty. So, for one night, I'm asking you – as a Gryffindor, as a Longbottom – to fight past your feelings about Theo and work with him for the Greater Good."
Neville said nothing at first, but he was nearly trembling with barely restrained fury. Marcus was so unnerved by the boy's transformation that he'd slowly begun reaching towards his own wand just in case.
Finally, Neville spoke. "Alright. For Sirius. And the Greater Good, I suppose." Then, he fixed Theo with a steely gaze.
"But understand this, Outcast. I will be watching you. And if you give me the slightest sign of betrayal, I will stun you, snap your wand, and leave you to get eaten by the Dementors. Understood?"
Theo nodded. Neville turned back to Harry.
"I'll see at you at eight in front of the statue," he said in a clipped voice. Then, he stormed out of the room, deliberately bumping into Theo's shoulder as he went. After the door slammed shut, Theo turned to Harry and smiled.
"I think that went amazingly well, don't you?"
Harry let out a long breath. "As well as could be expected, I suppose. Come on, both of you. We need to make some plans."
Harry and Theo exited the room. Marcus followed behind, pausing to look back around his "classroom" one last time.
Thirty seconds after their departure, the door opened on its own and then closed again.
The Corridor leading to the Divination Classroom
2:45 p.m.
"Professor Trelawney!" Hermione called out to the Divination instructor. She was pleased to catch the woman outside of her classroom. The smell of incense frequently made Hermione feel queasy, and she would be happy to never need to climb a ladder to get into class again.
The older witch turned around, and her eyes widened behind her thick glasses.
"Miss Granger! Whatever is the matter, my child! Have you had a vision?!"
"No, Professor," Hermione replied. "I just wanted to give you my horoscope assignment since we didn't have class this morning."
"Oh, my dear! Your enthusiasm for the divinatory arts is truly inspiring. But this was unnecessary. Class was canceled this morning – as my Inner Eye warned me of last night. I saw a flock of whipperwills take flight just before sunset, and the dregs of my teacup were most alarming. And so, I had already decided to cancel my class and let you all turn in your horoscopes after the Easter Break before Professor McGonagall canceled all of today's classes."
Trelawney sniffed. "I should have warned her ahead of time that such would be necessary, but poor Minerva so rarely appreciates my insights."
"That's … unfortunate, Professor," Hermione said diplomatically. "But the thing is … I wanted you to have my project now … because I won't be returning to Divination after the Break. I've decided to drop the class."
Trelawney gasped in shock. "But Miss Granger! Your talent! Your gift!"
"Professor, I'm sorry, but I must. I'm … truly grateful for the … understanding of the validity and importance of Divination that only a Seer of your wisdom could provide."
Hermione paused, perhaps to see if lightning would strike her for such a blatant lie. Then, she continued.
"But the truth is – on our first day of class, you predicted that one of us would leave forever before Easter. I now know that the person you spoke of is me. I've had several premonitions over the past several days. Premonitions that hint at the dangers of my continuing in your class. I don't know how or why or when, but I just know that if I continue, it will lead to …."
She paused and took a deep breath. "Dooooom!"
Trelawney placed her hand over her mouth in shock. "Oh, my dear child. Yes, yes, of course. You cannot ignore your Inner Eye when it gives warnings of such clarity. You dare not. And now that you mention it, I too can see the tendrils of fate whirling about you, warning of the same dangers that you have seen."
"Thank you for understanding, Professor," Hermione said with as much sincerity as she could muster.
"Honestly, I don't know how Harry and Blaise do it!" she thought to herself.
"Good luck to you, Miss Granger."
With that, Sibyl Trelawney turned and headed on to the ladder leading up to her classroom, while Hermione turned away, relieved at last to have that complication to her life over with. But then, before she'd gone more than a few feet, Trelawney suddenly called out to her again.
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione turned back to see Trelawney, now with an odd unreadable expression on her face.
"Yes, Professor?"
The woman took a few steps towards her while looking around as if to make sure no one was listening in. Then, she slipped her glasses down and looking at her over the rim.
"Miss Granger … just between us … are you truly…." Then, she paused suddenly and simply stared at Hermione.
After several seconds of this, Hermione spoke up. "Am I truly what, Professor Trelawney?"
Trelawney continued to stare for several more seconds before shaking her head and turning away without answering.
"No, not yet," she muttered to herself while heading for the ladder. "It's not time yet."
Hermione watched the strange woman as she started up the ladder before shrugging her shoulders and heading back the way she'd come.
Severus Snape's personal laboratory
4:15 p.m.
Somewhat unusually, Severus Snape found himself in a bit of a rush. With everything that had been happening with his co-conspirators, he'd almost forgotten about the Wolfsbane Potion which had to be completed soon. Dumbledore wasn't on hand to convey it to its intended recipient, but he'd left word to deliver the completed potion to the caretaker, Mr. Sturgeon, who in turn would deliver it to Snape's literal bête noire, Remus Lupin. Of course, Mr. Sturgeon himself had also disappeared, having run off to deliver the Marauders' Map to a secret Death Eater.
"Imbecile," Snape thought uncharitably. "I wouldn't be surprised if Pettigrew's already killed him! Which, morality aside, is a damned inconvenience."
Happily, Minerva's decision to cancel classes for the day had been fortuitous, allowing Snape to catch up on his brewing. He was just about to decant the potion. Then, with no other options, he would send his Patronus to Albus and find out where Remus Lupin was. While he'd said forcefully that he had no desire to meet the werewolf again after all these years, he now knew that Lupin had been completely innocent in The Prank, and, in any event, he would not want to see innocents harmed by a werewolf driven mad without Belby's potion.
Suddenly, his reveries were interrupted by the sound of glass shattering in the next room. He finished pouring the Wolfsbane potion into a goblet before dispelling the many locking wards on his laboratory door (it would not do to be interrupted while working with the highly toxic ingredients of this particular potion) and stepping out into the Potions classroom. He glanced around the room suspiciously and then noticed to his surprise that a small rat was sitting on a lab table. Apparently, it had knocked an empty beaker to the floor.
Snape pulled his wand out and prepared a spell useful for banishing vermin out of the castle and onto the grounds, but then he hesitated. Sirius had been oathbound against revealing too much about the Marauders and their status as Animagi, but he'd revealed a few things, and certainly a name like Wormtail was suggestive. The Potions Master took a few steps towards the rat which simply looked at him without fear. Slowly, he raised his wand.
"HOMENUM REVELIO!" he said, but the spell gave no indication of anything unusual about the rat. Snape exhaled and shook his head at his own paranoia … right before the red light of a silent Stupefy slammed into his back. The Slytherin dropped instantly to the ground. Behind him, the Potter Invisibility Cloak was tossed aside to reveal Peter Pettigrew bearing a triumphant expression.
Casually, he strolled over to the table and gently picked up the rat.
"That was perfect!" he said as he tickled the rat's whiskers. "Aren't you just the smartest little thing! And cute too!"
As he praised the rat, Peter produced a small hunk of cheese from one of his pockets which he fed to the rodent. Then, he balanced the rat on his shoulder before grabbing Snape by the heels and dragging him back into the private lab. Once inside, he locked up the room with several spells before performing a quick search of the premises. In a storage locker, he found what he was looking for: a vial of clear liquid marked "Veritaserum."
A few minutes later, a groggy Severus Snape was bound to a chair and answering Peter's questions with a slurred voice. He talked for a good ten minutes. Despite the Veritaserum, he had nothing to say about the Azkaban escapees and the cabal that had freed them. To Peter's surprise, he did claim to still be a loyal follower of the Dark Lord, though Peter was well aware of what a good Occlumens forewarned could do to avoid getting caught on that topic.
Hell, Peter himself was a good enough Occlumens to deny being a Death Eater under Veritaserum, so he assumed Severus was good enough for his answers about such questions to change according to the interrogator. Or perhaps Snape really was a loyal Death Eater. Which would not stop Peter from killing him – the fewer competitors for Voldemort's favor the better, after all.
Happily for Pettigrew, though, Snape had not bothered to construct an Occlumency defense for his work with the Wolfsbane potion, and so the Potions Master had plenty to say about that topic. At the end of the interrogation, Peter pocketed the complete formula for Damocles Belby's Wolfsbane Formula along with the sample meant for Remus Lupin, which Peter had transferred to an unbreakable glass vial.
Then, he turned back to Snape with one final question. "Tell me, Snivellus, with the stuff you currently have on the boil in here, what ingredients do you have lying around that I could add to a potion that would produce deadly toxic fumes while giving myself time enough to get away?"
"The Potion of Dreamless Sleep in the third cauldron. Dump the aconite in and turn the burner up to maximum. When the potion comes to a boil, it will be quite deadly to any who breath the fumes."
"Thank you, Snivellus. It's always good to receive advice from a true professional."
Then, Pettigrew stunned Snape once more before following his directions to the letter. In the floor nearby was a sluice grate for pouring out failed potions. The bars were too close for a person to fit through, but just the right size for a rat. Peter removed the rat from his shoulder (where it had been resting peacefully the whole time) and dropped it down through the grate. Then, he took a moment to retrieve the Invisibility Cloak, fold it up, and drop it through the opening as well, before following along in his Animagus form. Behind him, Severus Snape lay unconscious on the floor as menacing black fumes began to rise from the cauldron.
The Office of Chief Auror James Potter
4:50 p.m.
James had just tossed back his third headache remedy of the day when the small compact mirror in his pocket started to vibrate. So far, his 34th birthday had not been one of his better ones. Things started off badly at 4:00 a.m. when he was summoned to the ruins of Grimmauld Place. To James's embarrassment, now that it was in the news, he actually remembered Sirius joking that his family lived in "a grim old place," but he'd never realized that his former friend had been making a pun on the actual name of the Black home.
"And to think," James ruminated, "if I'd remembered that detail at the start, we might well have caught the escapees months ago!"
Minister Fudge and Director Bones had both been after him all day long for "results," and the Daily Prophet was in fine form as usual. Even Rita Skeeter, who'd given the Potters such good press over the years, had made several snide comments about the failures of the Auror Corps in dealing with the Death Eater Menace in her most recent coverage.
After swallowing the headache potion, an exhausted James reached into a pocket and pulled out the mirror compact, the one Peter had given him years before for "emergencies."
"James Potter," he said into the mirror.
"It's Peter."
"Hey, Pete! Listen, I've been meaning to call you. I know we were planning to go out to the Leaky Cauldron for a round of birthday drinks tonight, but I'm not going to be able to …."
"I'm not surprised with what's been in the papers," Pettigrew replied. "But that's not what I'm calling about. When can you get away from work?"
"Probably not for a few hours, given everything that's happened. Why, what's up?"
Peter spoke quietly and secretively. "Are you alone?"
James looked around the office just to be sure and then fired a silencing spell at the door. "Yes. What's the matter?" he asked with some concern.
"I can't talk freely where I am. It's too risky. I need you to meet me at the Shrieking Shack tonight at 6 p.m. precisely. Find some excuse to get away and come alone."
"Peter, it's been a long day, and I'm really not in the mood for intrigue. What in Merlin's name is going on?"
"James, I promise I would tell you if I could, but you need to see it for yourself. I found out something. Something big. It involves Sirius … and the rest of the Marauders. And Jim."
James sat up straight, suddenly alert. "Jim? What about Jim?"
"Six o'clock. The Shrieking Shack. Be discrete. I can't say anything more now."
James sighed. "Okay, I'll finish up here and travel up to the Three Broomsticks in time to meet you at six. But Peter … this better be worth it."
Peter ended the call and closed the compact before grinning in anticipation. "Prongs, old boy? You better believe that what I have in store for you will be worth it."
The Hogwarts Foyer
5:00 p.m.
Harry was headed to the Great Hall for dinner when he caught sight of Marcus Flint standing in the foyer. Flint made brief eye contact with him before heading out the main door. Figuring that Flint needed to talk to him discretely, Harry followed. Sure enough, Flint was waiting for him on the front porch of the castle.
"What is it?" Harry asked quietly.
Flint looked around carefully. "Snape's still coming with us tonight, right?"
"As far as I know."
"So do you have any idea why he'd be going off with that Pettigrew guy who you told me is a secret Death Eater?"
Harry stiffened in surprise. "Pettigrew's here? And Snape's with him?"
"Yeah, I just saw them heading that way." Flint frowned while pointing around the side of the building. "Well, I say together. Snape was walking in front with Pettigrew close behind."
"How long ago?" Harry asked nervously,
"Just a few minutes."
Harry frowned. "Come on."
He took off in the direction Flint had pointed, and the older Slytherin followed behind. Once around the corner, Harry saw there was no sign of Pettigrew or Snape, but in the distance, he could see the Whomping Willow. To his surprise, it was stilled for once, and then, he remembered that the Marauders had a way to immobilize the tree so that they could access the passageway hidden beneath it. Harry took off towards the tree, but it began to thrash around when he drew close.
"Okay, there's a way to calm the tree down and also to open up a secret passage at the bottom. But what is it?"
"There's a knot at the bottom you have to either press or hit with a Stunner," Flint supplied.
Harry's brow furrowed, and he turned towards the older boy. "How did you know …?"
"STUPEFY."
There was a flash of red light, and Harry dropped to the ground. Flint looked down at him with a glassy expression. Then, he pulled the smaller boy up over his shoulder into a fireman's carry and headed towards the Whomping Willow to fulfill his orders.
The Shrieking Shack
6:00 p.m.
James Potter surveyed the Shrieking Shack grimly. He'd come here at the urging of his most trusted friend and confidante, but now, looking at the building that had been such an important part of his youth, he had a strange sense of unease. Cautiously, he walked up the steps to the front porch.
By design, none of the doors or windows of the Shack were functional, and officially, the only way in or out was through the tunnel leading to the Whomping Willow. But James Potter was accustomed to going where he wanted, and so he transfigured several of the boards covering one of the ground-floor windows to be transparent. Then, he peeked through and saw there was now enough light even as the sun was going down to see the gloomy interior. Gripping his wand tightly, James Apparated inside before restoring the boards to their normal opacity.
"LUMOS," he said quietly, and a light from the tip of his wand illuminated the filthy room. He looked around slowly. It had been so many years since the former Marauder had visited the Shrieking Shack – definitely not since graduation. Still, he'd expected some feeling of familiarity, if not nostalgia. Instead, the man was struck by what he could only describe as an overpower sense of unfamiliarity, a sensation that he'd never been here before even though he knew otherwise. He wondered if the French had a name for the sensation.
"Ah! You're here!" James jumped at the sound and then turned towards Peter Pettigrew, who'd entered the room with his own wand lit.
"Yes, Peter. I'm here. Now would you kindly explain why I'm here?"
As he spoke, James took a step forward but was then startled when his foot hit something. He looked down and pointed with his Lumos-lit wand. It was a small cracked brass orb that rolled across the floor towards Pettigrew, who reached out with his own foot to stop its movement.
"What is that?" James asked out of curiosity.
"I believe it's called a Recording Orb," Peter answered as he knelt to pick up the orb. "They're used by the Department of Mysteries to, well, record things. That one, obviously, is broken and got left behind back in '79."
James looked from the cracked orb to Peter and back again in confusion. "Peter, what are you talking about? What the hell is an Unspeakable's Recording Orb doing in an abandoned building?"
"Walk with me, James," Peter said as he turned and headed further into the building, toying with the orb idly as he spoke. "Tell me, my old friend. What do you actually remember about this place?"
James followed, looking around as he did. His peculiar sense of unfamiliarity only grew.
"I remember the Headmaster would lock Remus in here every month so he wouldn't hurt anyone. I remember us finding Remus here and resolving to help him by becoming Animagi. I remember saving Snivellus's miserable life during The Prank. And I remember the three of us letting Remus out once we'd mastered our transformations so we could all romp around in the Forbidden Forest."
He paused and frowned.
"Which in retrospect was an incredibly stupid and irresponsible thing to do," he finally said. "But what does that have to do with … with whatever we're here for? And what does it have to do with Jim?"
Peter turned back to him. "James, every single memory you have of this place ... is a lie," he said flatly. "The truth is that Dumbledore didn't just lock Remus in here. This was where experiments were performed on Remus with his consent. This was where we were taught to become Animagi in furtherance of those experiments."
"What?! What madness is this Peter? Why don't I remember any of that?"
"Memory Locks, of course!" Peter answered. "You have a whole slew of them. As do I."
"Impossible!" James spat. "I handle Remembralls all the time! I'd know if I had any Memory Locks on me!"
"No, James, you would not. Because the Unspeakables have access to a potion that can cause all forms of memory Charms to be undetectable by Remembralls and thus not subject to being undone by Remembralls." Peter grinned suddenly. "Trust me, Prongs. I am very familiar with the potion in question."
James studied his friend in confusion. Something about Peter's attitude was troubling, but James wasn't sure what it was.
"So, when did you find out about these so-called Memory Locks? And how?"
At that, Peter's grin grew even wider, unsettlingly so. "I don't know all the details, but I was told all the important facts several years ago."
"By who?" James asked suspiciously.
"By my best friend, James. His name is Mr. Nemo!"
Upon hearing that name of the infamous Death Eater whose cursed book had nearly driven his younger son mad, James's face lit up in anger, and with a soft snikt, his wand fell into his hand.
"STUPEFY!"
There was a flash of red light … and James Potter dropped to the floor. Behind him, Marcus Flint pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and let it drop. He stared at the Chief Auror with the same glazed expression he'd worn when he betrayed his friend Harry less than an hour before.
Peter smirked cruelly as he casually tossed the orb over his shoulder. It landed in the next room with a soft crash.
"Well done, Mr. Flint. Well done, indeed. If things were different, I think you'd make a fine Auror. Of course, if things were different in other ways, you'd make an equally fine Death Eater. Alas, Fate is a cruel bitch."
Pettigrew took a moment to reinforce the Imperius Curse he'd put on Marcus earlier that afternoon and then fired off an Incarcerous that left James Potter bound tightly.
"Put him with the others," Peter commanded. As Marcus complied, Peter bent down to claim James's wand, which he pocketed. Then, he pulled another mirror out of his pocket – a different mirror than the one he'd used to contact James earlier.
"Fenrir, it's Peter."
Seconds later, the fearsome werewolf's face appeared in the mirror. He seemed distressed, almost feverish.
"P-Peter. Where are you? M-Moonrise is coming. If I can't catch them before I ch-change, I'll lose them."
"Forget them for now, my friend. Apparate immediately to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. I know where they're going and when. And I have a little something for you. Something that will make your hunt go much smoother."
With his free hand, he reached into a different pocket and pulled out the vial of Wolfsbane Potion. "Something that's going to change everything!"
Ten minutes later, Fenrir Greyback was at the Shrieking Shack holding a large glass vial in his hand and staring at it in amazement.
"And you're sure this will work, Peter?"
The Animagus shrugged. "Not really. But there's no time like the present to try it out, my friend. If nothing else, I'm sure it won't hurt you."
After a brief hesitation, the werewolf pulled the stopper and downed the Wolfsbane Potion in one big swallow. Then, he grimaced in disgust.
"Well, that tasted like crap."
"I'm sure. But the effects are what matter. How do you feel?"
Fenrir blinked a few times. "Not sure yet. I feel … different. Maybe a little more … focused?"
"Well, I wish we could test it under controlled circumstances, but we're short on time. Sirius will be in the forest soon. He'll be making for the fake stump I told you about. Him and his accomplice, who is apparently the long-dead Regulus Black!"
"So what's the plan?"
"It's not a very complicated plan, Fenrir, compared to my usual efforts. Just kill them both, along with any Hogwarts students who show up to assist them. Leave the bodies near the Acromantula colony so there will be no remains. Oh, but if it's at all possible, save me Sirius Black's head. I may be able to use his hair for Polyjuice purposes even after he's dead."
Fenrir snorted. "Knowing you, I'm surprised you don't want to have it stuffed and mounted on your living room wall."
"Please! Like I want to see that ugly mug every day. Right then, you've had your potion, so off you pop to the Forest. Your Change will come in less than twenty minutes. But first, give me the Map. I may have a use for it later, and I don't want it getting lost when you transform."
Fenrir nodded and handed the Map over before Apparating out of the Shack. Peter looked around the room as if taking roll. James and Harry both lay against one wall, bound and unconscious with their arms tied behind their backs. James in particular bound with some very special cuffs that Peter had acquired for just this purpose. Remus lay against the other wall, still under the effects of the Draught of Living Death that Peter had snuck into his tea when they'd met in his office the day before. Marcus Flint stood against a wall with a vacant expression, still under the effects of the Imperius Curse.
Flint's involvement was a last-minute improvisation. Peter had been stalking Harry invisibly that afternoon, waiting for a chance to strike when, to his astonishment, he chanced to overhear a conversation that revealed Harry Potter's direct involvement in the Azkaban breakout! He'd almost panicked when Flint hit the room with a Homenum Revelio looking for eavesdroppers – he'd had no idea that the Potter Invisibility Cloak was strong enough to block that spell. Certainly Dumbledore had not had any difficulty spotting the Marauders when hiding under the Cloak. Perhaps Flint had just cast it improperly. Or maybe Albus was just that good.
In any case, after hearing that conversation, Peter modified his plan. He followed Flint out of Hogwarts and back to Hogsmeade and put the boy under the Imperius there rather than risk using an Unforgiveable on Hogwarts grounds. Then, he attended to poor old Snivellus before coming here to meet James. Peter pulled a pocket watch out of his vest and checked the time.
"Right," he said to himself. "Showtime."
In swift order, he poured a vial of the Wiggenweld Potion down Remus's throat to counteract the effects of the Draught of Living Death before casting Renervation Spells on James and Harry.
James woke up first and looked around groggily. "Peter? Peter! What the hell is going on?!"
Harry awoke as well but said nothing while using his Occlumency to clamp down on the impulse to panic. He did note Marcus standing nearby with a vacant expression that he assumed correctly was the result of the Imperius Curse.
"What's going on, Prongs? Well, it's simple. You see, tonight, we have finally reached that moment in the drama when the villain casts his mask aside and reveals his diabolical nature."
"Peter?" Lupin said weakly. "What … you drugged me?"
"Yes, my friend, I did. Though I promise it was for your own good …." Pettigrew stopped abruptly as Remus's name seemed to stick in his throat.
"Ah, silly me. The Fidelius! We can't proceed to the villain's monologue until we've introduced all the other players!"
With that, he pulled a scrap of parchment from inside his jacket and carried it over to where both James and Harry could see it. It was the Secret.
James looked at "Malachi Sturgeon" in shock. "You're really Remus Lupin?!"
Harry was shocked for a different reason. "You're a werewolf?!"
As the last piece slipped into place, Harry cursed the effectiveness of the Fidelius Charm. Now that he knew the Secret, he could clearly remember all the times he'd literally been told that Lupin was a werewolf and then promptly forgotten it or ignored the evidence.
James struggled ineffectually against his bonds. Alastor Moody had railed constantly about the need for a good Auror to know at least a few wandless spells, especially Accio and Finite Incantatem. Now, James regretted not listening to his former mentor's advice. When he couldn't break the bonds as a human, he closed his eyes in concentration. But then, they popped back open in surprise, and he hissed at the sharp pain in his wrists. Pettigrew noticed his discomfort.
"I'm guessing you just realized you can't change forms, eh, Prongs? Yes, I thought it might be problematic to have you prancing around while I was trying to talk, so I put you in some shackles marked with the same runes you had inscribed all over poor Sirius's cell."
"Peter, please. What's going on here? Are you under the Imperius? Are you being blackmailed?"
"No," Harry spat angrily. "He's just the bad guy."
Peter snorted at that. "Prongs, this is me, really and truly. Nearly fourteen years ago, I decided that I could do better for myself than being James Potter's 'pet project.' The poor lackey that you only tolerated out of pity." As he spoke, Pettigrew took off his jacket and then rolled up his sleeve. "And so, I made a choice. And I have never once regretted it."
As he spoke those last words, a tattoo of the Dark Mark slowly materialized on his arm. James was speechless.
"You … you were a Death Eater?" Remus said disbelievingly.
"Yes, Remus," he said smugly. "And it's a good thing for you I was! You were a decent spy, but not a great one. At my request, however, Fenrir Greyback overlooked your lapses and ensured that none of the other werewolves ever found you out."
His expression changed to one of genuine affection. "You're my best friend, Remus, and I would never have let you come to harm."
"This is insane!" James yelled. "Dammit, Peter! We're friends! We always have been! How could you have turned on us?!"
"Oh grow up, Prongs," Peter said impatiently. "We were never friends. Not really. Remus and I were friends. You and Sirius were friends, sort of. Though personally, I'd describe it more as a sort of weird and slightly homoerotic co-dependency relationship in which two inveterate bullies bonded over a shared taste in victims. And outside of us, you've never really had anything even close to a friend."
"That's not true!" James exclaimed. Beside him, Harry rolled his eyes.
"As if this is the time to get mad because someone challenged your popularity when in school!" he thought to himself.
"I'm sure you believe that, Prongs," Peter said almost pityingly. "But the James Potter I knew at Hogwarts divided the whole world into two groups. Group one consisted of those who were in a position of authority over him, those who had something he wanted, and those who were impressed with his exploits and happy to cheer his name. That group got the full measure of the Potter Heir's charm. Group two consisted of those who were not impressed by him and who had nothing to offer that he wanted. And that group got treated as enemies to be crushed with mean-spirited pranks and belittling insults. Naturally, I decided two weeks after we met that my best chance to avoid seven years of misery was to get myself into group one, as soon as possible, which I achieved by signing up for the role of Potter's Minion and Chief Whipping Boy.
"Of course, at the time, I didn't fully appreciate the nature of my role in the group. I naively thought we were equals, even if you, Prongs, were always first among equals. I owe it to Sirius Black for showing me the truth. I hope he appreciates how I've repaid him."
James's face darkened. "You and Black! You both betrayed us to You-Know-Who!"
At that, Harry finally snapped. "Oh for God's sake! Sirius Black was never your Secret Keeper. It was always Pettigrew. He Memory Charmed you to think it was Sirius who betrayed you!"
"Impossible!" James spat.
"Oh no, James," Peter said merrily. "It's more than possible. I tricked Sirius into thinking that I was the best choice for Secret Keeper because no one would suspect a 'pathetic little weakling' like me. And then, Sirius persuaded both you and Lily to make the switch to me without telling anyone else. It was all I could do not to laugh. Of course, I had to improvise quickly when Jim vanquished the Dark Lord. Luckily, I had a supply of the Unspeakable Potion I mentioned earlier. It's a real potion, James. The Unspeakables use it to conceal their most secret and illicit activities. You know, like all those years they spent running experiments on Remus in here and brainwashing the rest of us to go along with it! Anyway, Mr. Nemo got me a few samples, one of which I used on you the night the Dark Lord attacked your family."
Pettigrew laughed cruelly. "You could have handled Remembralls every day for a hundred years and never detected my alterations. After that, I just counted on your natural vindictiveness! Heh! You should have seen the look on Sirius's face when he realized what I'd done!"
Peter shook his head as if recalling a fond memory while James and Remus looked on in shock.
"And then," Harry interrupted, "after you helped send Sirius to Azkaban, you kept on manipulating James. Getting him to finance your Law Mastery. To make you Jim's new godfather. To make you Seneschal and Proxy for House Potter."
"Quite so, Harry. It was easy. Your father's very gullible, after all. And by that point, I was the only friend he had left to stand beside him after Sirius's 'shocking betrayal.'"
James ground his teeth at the succession of insults. Then, something Pettigrew said earlier finally registered.
"Pet … project. Sirius said that on the day we went to your father's vault." James's eyes narrowed. "Do you mean to say that you joined Voldemort because you overheard Sirius say some things that hurt your feelings?"
Peter snorted. "Sirius could never hurt my feelings by that point. We only kept up the pretense of friendship for your benefit. But I never forgave him for the Prank. And he never forgave me for the temerity of not forgiving him even after you and Remus asked me to. No, James, the last straw wasn't hearing what Sirius really thought about me. It was hearing you refuse to stick up for me in the slightest. On the day when I'd had one terrible shock after another, I heard James Potter – who I had to beg to come with me to Gringotts – admit that I was nothing but a charity case. And so, I decided if I couldn't have your genuine friendship … then I would take everything else from you."
"No! That's insane!" Remus sputtered. "You were a good person. I know you weren't faking that during all the years of our friendship. I cannot believe that you would abandon the Marauders and turn evil over something like that."
"But you see, Remus, that's the thing!" Pettigrew said excitedly. "That's what I learned that day in Gringotts. That there is no good! There is no evil! There is only …."
"Power," Harry interrupted in a bored tone. "Power and those too weak to seek it."
Peter's eyes rose in surprise. "You're familiar with that saying?"
"Yeah, it's the motto of Emeric the Evil. Voldemort himself quoted it to me when I was a First Year, just a few minutes before your godson set him on fire. And I'll ask you what I asked your Lord: Did you know that those were among Emeric's last words just before his execution?"
Peter's face darkened almost angrily. But then, the anger passed, and he suddenly grinned infectiously. "Why yes, Harry, I did indeed know that!"
Then, he tilted his head and pointed a finger at the boy. "And since we're trading trivia questions about the greatest Dark Lord in history – did you know that Emeric the Evil … had a daughter?"
Harry blinked several times in confusion. "…what?"
Peter began to pace around the room as if delivering a lecture.
"While Emeric Belasco was being frog-marched through the Veil of Death by people who weren't fit to polish his wand – literally or figuratively – Lucretia Belasco was fleeing the country with as much gold and and as many of her father's dark objects and grimoires as she could fit into an expanding bag. She made her way to Bavaria under a false identity and married her way into a prominent wizarding family by the name of Kleinwuchs."
He looked around expectantly. "Anybody recognize that name from Binns's boring lectures?"
Harry was clueless, but James thought the name sounded familiar. Remus, however, looked up at Pettigrew in horror. "Peter … no … it can't be!"
"Oh, I'm afraid it can, Remus. Under Lucretia's guidance and that of her carefully educated descendants, the Kleinwuchs family grew from minor Germanic nobility to one of the preeminent Houses in Europe … and one of the darkest. Their power and influence lasted for centuries until the House was wiped out during the Grindelwald War. The last survivor was a dark wizard by the name of Gustav Kleinwuchs … who was also my grandfather!"
He turned to James. "Oh come on, Prongs! Surely you remember that name, being the bootlicking Dumbledore worshiper that you are!"
James paled. "Your … your grandfather was Gustav Kleinwuchs?!"
Harry looked around at the adults in the room in confusion. "I'm guessing I should be impressed with that name?"
Remus spoke haltingly. "Harry … Gustav Kleinwuchs was Grindelwald's highest-ranking lieutenant. He was also known as the Butcher of Silesia and the Death Wolf among other appellations because of his crimes against humanity and against Magic itself. Among other atrocities, he killed thousands of wizards and Muggles alike in the course of his experiments in weaponizing lycanthropy!"
"But Gustav Kleinwuchs died in the bombing of Dresden!" James said.
"Nope," Peter replied. "Most of the Kleinwuchs family died in that attack, but Gustav and his youngest son survived. Gustav had truly only served Grindelwald because he believed Grindelwald possessed the Elder Wand that had once been wielded by Emeric until his fall. He'd planned to betray Grindelwald and reclaim the family's greatest treasure when the time was right, but Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald before he had the chance. By that point, the Allied victory seemed inevitable, so he defected instead."
"Defected," Harry said slowly. "Defected to who?"
"Defected to whom, Harry," Pettigrew said smugly. "And who do you think would help a wanted war criminal emigrate to Britain and set him and his son up with fake identities and new faces? The Unspeakables, of course. They were willing to overlook his … indiscretions in exchange for all of his research notes from his work during the War."
Peter turned to Lupin. "I doubt Damocles Belby ever knew it, but the basis for that potion that you've been taking all these months was borne of my grandfather's work in the werewolf detention camps in Poland. In exchange for all that occult lore, the Unspeakables smuggled my grandfather and father into Britain and set them up with new identities: the Pettigrews, George and Martin, refugees from the evil Grindelwald's campaign of destruction. And to help them integrate into British wizarding society – and, I suppose, make sure my Grandfather didn't get any ideas they found objectionable – they assigned a young, newly-initiated Unspeakable by the name of Augustus Rookwood to be their handler."
Pettigrew barked out another laugh. "I'm told it took Grandfather less than two months to win Rookwood's loyalty away from the Unspeakables." He smirked at James. "And to think, I never knew any of this until the day I first entered my family vault and then finally accepted that my friends Prongs and Padfoot were irredeemable pricks!"
Then, he turned to Harry.
"Oh, and speaking of my beloved mentor – would you mind telling me where Augustus Rookwood is now, Harry?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry answered calmly.
"And if I were to say here in front of your father that I know you're somehow a part of the conspiracy that broke him and the other Death Eaters out of Azkaban? That I know that Sirius is on his way to Hogwarts right now at your invitation? To hide in the Chamber of Secrets no less?"
James turned towards Harry in shock, but the boy ignored him.
"Sorry. I still have no idea what you're talking about."
"Of course not," Peter said. "You couldn't tell me even if you wanted to, not even under torture, because of some mighty well-crafted oaths you're under. I learned that much from the twenty minutes or so I got to play around with Mr. Flint. Not even a few Crucios were enough to make him break his oaths. But it doesn't matter. I know Sirius is on his way, and Fenrir Greyback will be waiting in the Forbidden Forest to greet him. An intelligent and fully sentient Fenrir Greyback!"
"You gave my potion … to Fenrir Greyback?" Remus sputtered angrily.
"Well, of course! I mean, I have the formula right here!" Pettigrew patted his coat pocket warmly. "But I could hardly give up the chance to field test the thing."
He laughed again. "Intelligent werewolves. The Holy Grail of Emeric Belasco. All mine." He looked around the room. "I just want to thank you all. This may be the happiest day of my life! Ha! I may even learn to summon a Patronus of my own after this!"
"Why are you even telling us all this?" Harry asked in exasperation, as if offended by the cliche of a villain revealing all his secrets so readily.
"A good question! Why am I ranting and monologuing like a villain from some Muggle radio drama? Well, for one thing, I have been eating hippogriff dung sandwiches for pretty much the last twenty-two years that I've been hanging around your father, and frankly, I'm delighted to finally tell him exactly what I think of him. And also, I may be a dark wizard, but I am a Gryffindor. It's just not in my nature to resist the chance to gloat."
He pulled out his pocket watch again to check the time. "But mostly, it's because my watch appears to be running several minutes fast. I'd have thought that Remus would start to change already, but apparently not, so I've got time to kill."
With that last remark, Harry looked over to the horrified Remus Lupin who was beginning to sweat profusely.
"Peter, please! Don't do this! After all these years, don't make me a killer!"
"Ah, Remus. I'm doing this precisely because of how much I value our friendship. I know how much you've struggled pointlessly all these years. And it's so unnecessary! Once you finally give in and taste manflesh, you'll see. You'll finally be what you were meant to be! Emeric the Evil's greatest work. A flawless instrument of death!"
"You won't do it!" James said angrily even as he continued pulling ineffectually at the ropes. "Just stop this nonsense, Peter. Even if you betrayed me and my family to Voldemort, I know you. The real you. And I know you won't kill us! You don't have it in you to be a cold-blooded…!"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
There was a flash of green, and Marcus Flint fell to the floor lifeless.
"NOOO!" Harry screamed, while James and Remus just looked on in shock and horror.
"Still want to finish that sentence, James?" Peter sneered. "You have no idea what I've done. You have no idea what I'm capable of. You have no idea what I'll do next. But I'm happy to provide a synopsis. In a few minutes, Remus will transform and, at my direction, he will kill you and your Heir before disappearing into the Forest. An investigation will reveal that he never received his potion because Severus Snape had a tragic accident in his lab a few hours ago and died from inhalation of toxic fumes. Specifically, an aconite-based poison, which is really funny if you know about his history as a Death Eater.
"I will explain to the authorities and to Jim that you, James, had a plan to lure Sirius Black here to the Shrieking Shack using the Marauders' Map which I gave to you after receiving it from Remus. Only you didn't know that Remus was still using the Shack for his monthly transformations due to the Fidelius he was under. Nor did you know that young Harry here had been charged by Albus Dumbledore with figuring out Remus's Secret and his research in that area led him to follow you here to the Shrieking Shack. But please don't worry too much about poor grief-stricken Jim. As his godfather, I'll file the formal adoption paperwork in just a few days and also start the process of becoming the Potter House Regent."
"Lily will never let that happen," James said through gritted teeth. Peter sneered at him contemptuously.
"She won't have a choice, James, seeing as how 'the Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter' signed all the paperwork months ago to give me Regency over Jim and the House itself in the event of his death! Even if Lily contests your designation, there's no way the Wizengamot would rule in her favor given her outspoken blood status and the sheer number of influential Purebloods that she's been consistently pissing off since she was eleven years old!"
Potter stared at his Seneschal and Proxy with his mouth open, speechless at the sudden realization of how thoroughly he'd been betrayed.
"As for Lily herself, I'm still trying to decide how best to handle her if she causes problems. I don't want to traumatize Jim any more than necessary by killing both his parents. So, I'm thinking instead a mental breakdown of some kind that gets her institutionalized in St. Mungo's for the rest of her life. Something comparable to the Longbottoms, maybe. That shouldn't be too hard to arrange."
"YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY WIFE, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" James bellowed impotently.
Peter ignored the outburst and turned to Harry. "Well, Harry? That's my plan. Can I have a Slytherin critique of my cunning and style?"
"Sure," Harry said coldly. "It's ridiculous and overcomplicated and has at least a dozen failure points where everything could fall apart. Also, just so you know – I'm going to kill you for what you did to Marcus!"
Peter chuckled. "Well, you'd better get cracking on that because you've only got a few minutes left."
Pettigrew rose and strolled over to where Remus was struggling with his own bonds. Along the way, he slashed his palm open with his wand, and blood began to drip to the floor.
"NO, PETER!" he yelled through his sobs. "I WON'T DO IT! WHATEVER IT TAKES, I WON'T HURT ANYONE!"
"Shhh, Remus! I'm afraid I won't be leaving you a choice, my old friend."
He knelt down and wiped his hand over Remus's face, smearing his blood all over it. Instantly, Remus seemed to go into a violent fit.
"STOP IT!" A distraught James yelled. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HIM?!"
Peter stood and stepped back as the frenzied Remus Lupin opened his eyes. They glowed amber. Suddenly, there was a loud crack as several of Lupin's bones spontaneously cracked with the start of his lunar transformation.
"I am the last of the Line of Emeric Belasco, James," Peter said with solemn pride. "The Father of All Werewolves. Emeric's blood flows through my veins. And the Beast inside every werewolf will always recognize its master."
And then, Remus Lupin threw back his head and howled in mindless rage as his muscles started to bulge and his jaw cracked and distended into a muzzle full of long, sharp teeth. Peter turned back to the two Potters and grinned as if he were the proud owner of a pet that was performing some difficult trick. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out two wands.
"I know the sensible thing to do is to snap these, but it might lead to questions when they find your remains. Besides, what kind of Gryffindor would I be if I didn't leave you a sporting chance!"
He turned and threw first one wand and then the other as far as he could into the next room.
"Now I know for a fact that James is pants at wandless magic, Harry, but I'm told you managed an impressive feat of accidental magic in summoning your wand from a few feet away last Halloween. Let's see if you can do it again from quite a bit farther away before Remus eats your face off!"
He turned back to Lupin, whose transformation was nearly complete.
"REMUS!" Pettigrew snapped in a commanding voice as if giving orders to a well-trained hound. The werewolf's head snapped towards Pettigrew in response, though he never stopped snarling like a rabid dog.
"When I've gone, tear them both to shreds. Then, mutilate Flint's body so it doesn't look like a Killing Curse. After they're dead, come find me in the Forest."
The werewolf growled and turned towards James and Harry. Saliva dripped down from its bared fangs.
Pettigrew turned towards James one last time. "Okay, I guess I'm off to kill Sirius Black and then seize control of House Potter while building a werewolf army under my personal control! Exciting times! But don't you worry, Prongs. I promise – I will love Jim like he was my own flesh and blood!"
Then, he paused as if he'd suddenly remembered something important.
"Oh, I almost forgot. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" He gave the friend he'd betrayed a toothy grin and a little finger-wiggling wave. James recognized the wave - it was the same wave he'd given James all those years ago in front of the Pettigrew family vault. The day James had unwittingly set Peter on the path to this moment. Then, there was a loud crack as Pettigrew Apparated away. In response, the werewolf threw off the last of the rags that had been Remus Lupin's clothes and HOWLED!
And then, the Beast charged towards its prey.
Next: Even Worse!
AN1: Check out the Sinister Man's web presence on the POS wiki, the POS TV Tropes page, and my Discord server (through which you can see advance previews of this story as it is begin written). Also, the Sinister Man would be profoundly grateful if you checked out my P*****n page and supported my original fiction. Patronage is not necessary to get the free POS previews via Discord.
AN2 (What the Sinister Man is reading):
(1) "Crime and Punishment" by mloctlis, which I already recommended last chapter, but I misspelled the author's name so here it is again.
(2) "Too Far From Home" by story2tell. This is not normally an HP genre I enjoy, but it has some interesting features that intrigue me. It's one of those "Harry is summoned to an AU where James and Lily are still alive" fics, but instead of post-Final Battle Harry getting kidnapped by people desperate for a savior, Harry is sent to this other world soon after Little Hangleton while he's deep in PTSD, the travel is not intentional on anyone's part, and there is eventually travel back and forth between the two worlds by multiple individuals which leads to some surprising twists. Also, except for AU Dumbledore, there's very little bashing, and even alt-Dumbledore is just more cold and ruthless than in canon rather than gratuitiously evil. Warning: Rather angsty.
AN3: Special thanks to my Discord editors:
3rtrgfed, ACI100, Adam Sitrich, aeegoem, FeatheryMinx, HeidiWolf, Jay, Krisni, Miss Andris, Mr. Gift, Pokeflute, ProfessionalDragonslayer, and ProgKingHughesker. Thanks guys!
AN4: Just in case it's not clear, the little wave that Peter gave here and in the Gringotts scene from Chapter 120 is supposed to evoke the "goodbye wave" Peter gives in the film version of Prisoner of Azkaban. It was the only genuinely creepy thing canon-Peter ever did.
AN5: Updated on 2/7/2020 to tweak a line of dialogue so that it sets up something in a later chapter.