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 44: Redux (Part 1)
26 March 1994, 5:45 a.m.
Harry's Room
Harry Potter's eyes shot open and he sat up in bed. He'd had a strange unsettling dream that he could not recall any of upon awakening. Not exactly a nightmare, just … weird. A dream he couldn't recall at all yet somehow knew he'd had before. Déjà vu of the unconscious, as it were. His watch said that it was quarter to 6, so he wasn't up much earlier than usual. The Slytherin gathered his toiletries and then stopped, as the strange sense of déjà vu only grew more intense. Cautiously, he moved over to the door and pulled it open. As he had somehow expected, Blaise was on the other side of the door, startled by Harry's presence.
"What's got you up so early?" said Zabini.
Harry stared at him with wide eyes for several seconds. "Couldn't sleep," he finally mumbled.
Blaise looked at his friend with a cautious expression. "So … excited for the Easter Break?"
"All that really happened," Harry said in a complete daze. "I'm here."
Then, to Blaise's shock and surprise, Harry rushed forward with an insane grin on his face and pulled him into a bearhug before lifting the boy off the ground and whirling him around in a circle.
"I'M BACK!" Harry bellowed jubilantly.
Then, he let Blaise go and darted back into his room. Completely shocked by the display, Blaise followed him inside.
"I wasn't aware you'd ever left," he said while closing the door behind him. Harry ignored the other boy and paced around his dorm room in excitement while muttering almost incoherently.
"Okay, gotta think. Gotta plan. Gotta … make a list! Hermione was right!" Then, he suddenly turned back to Blaise with a slightly mad expression. "Proper planning prevents poor performance! ha-Ha!"
"Aaaaand now you're doing the Lockhart laugh," Blaise muttered with some concern. Harry went back to ignoring the other boy as he pulled out a notebook and a quill.
"Okay, what's first?" he muttered to himself. "The first big thing was when Remus took the Map…." Harry paused suddenly at the recollection. Then, his eyes widened at what else he could recall.
"Malachi Sturgeon is actually the werewolf Remus Lupin." he said slowly to no one in particular before he laughed again, this time quite maniacally. It seemed that traveling back in time to a point before he learned Remus's Secret did not cause him to forget it once more! He still knew it!
"What did you just say?" Blaise asked in confusion.
"I don't know," Harry answered cautiously. "What did it sound like I said?"
Blaise stared at him for a few seconds, and to his surprise, Harry could almost see in Blaise's expression the moment the Fidelius kicked in.
"I … don't know," Blaise said uncertainly. "I couldn't quite make it out."
Harry didn't answer but instead focused on his own thoughts. And when he couldn't think fast enough, he dilated slightly.
"I know Remus's complete Secret but I can't share it because Dumbledore is the Secret Keeper. But I know a good bit about working around the Fidelius from the experiments I did on the topic. So, what else do I know that I didn't know before? I know the Map can be used to track any of the Marauders. I know how to get into the Shrieking Shack. I know a Parselmagic Sectumsempra will totally kill a werewolf. I know James Potter is an even bigger prat than I ever imagined before and why. I know the Potter Prophecy, even if I've sworn an oath … not … to share … it…."
Harry's eyes widened and he suddenly sat down on the bed as his knees went weak.
"Harry, what is going on? You're scaring me!" Blaise exclaimed, now genuinely concerned about his friend. "Say something dammit!"
Harry ignored the other boy in favor of probing his own mind over his sudden realization. The strange sense of magic wrapping around his very heart to bind it against revealing the Potter Prophecy … was gone. The boy pulled up all his memories of being under the Potter Oath's effects from prior to his time travel, but something was definitely different now. Then, he stiffened as he remembered the words of the Oath itself.
"I, Hadrian Remus … No-Name, make this Oath on my magic and on my soul. That from this moment forward until the day I die, I will keep the Secret of House Potter in my heart and share it with no outsiders. Let Magic itself bind my tongue against revelation both deliberate and unintentional save when speaking to those who are already witness to the Secret. Let the Secret preserve itself not just against my betrayal but also my indiscretion. So mote it be."
"Was it because I swore the oath as Hadrian Remus No-Name but I've gone back to being Harry Potter? No, I don't think identity works that way in an oath freely sworn. But what else could it be?"
He thought through the words of the oath again, while an increasingly frightened Blaise Zabini tried continuously to get his attention. And on the third read-through, he saw it … and laughed out loud.
"From this moment forward until the day I die! That's what I swore! But this moment is in the future! I didn't swear the oath until around nine o'clock tomorrow night! And until then, I'm not under it!"
Harry turned and looked Blaise straight in the eye. "This is how our world will end," he said clearly and distinctly. "In a cold yet all-consuming flame."
"Wh-what?!" Blaise sputtered in shock at the words. The boy actually staggered back slightly in complete surprise.
Harry jumped up from the bed excitedly. "I said – This is how the world will end, In a cold yet all-consuming flame! Heee!"
Blaise took a step backwards towards the door as Harry was practically jumping up and down in excitement.
"If I'm bound by the Potter Oath at all," he thought excitedly, "it won't be until tomorrow night! This changes everything!"
He finally turned back to Blaise and clapped the other boy on the shoulders.
"Listen! I gotta do … some stuff! Important stuff! You go on to breakfast! I'll catch you up later, okay?"
"Yeah, Harry. Sure." Blaise said weakly as Harry ushered him out the door before slamming it and locking it.
Blaise simply stared at the door for several moments. Anyone walking by would have thought he was unnaturally pale today. Almost to the point of looking sickly. Then, he came to his senses and looked around to see if anyone had seen him before taking two steps towards his dorm room … and then breaking out into a panicked run.
Moments later …
"The Last Potter becomes the Prince of Slytherin?!" Regulus repeated slowly. "And James Potter told you this? The Potter family has known about the Prince of Slytherin for 200 years?!"
"I don't know what the Potter family knows, Reg. I don't even think James knows anything solid about the Prince position beyond the fact that it exists according to a True Prophecy. And I can't tell you any details about the circumstances under which I learned about it because … reasons."
"Uh-huh. So why are you telling me about it at all?"
"Because I am pretty sure that in the very near future, I will be bound by a very restrictive oath not to tell anyone about it. I plan to tell a few others later today, but I wanted to tell you first to … well, I don't know if there's anything you can actually do about it, but I thought it would be a good idea for someone not bound by an oath that a bunch of Gryffindors came up with to know about the Prophecy in case we need to share it more broadly later. Or parts of it at least. Obviously, we're not spreading around the 'Prince of Slytherin' bit to anyone outside our House. But other than Theo, you're the only person I would risk telling the whole thing to."
"I'm grateful for your trust in me, Harry."
"Don't be too grateful," Harry said sardonically. "I'm also under the Lair's protections. I can't talk about the Prince of Slytherin to just anyone. Right now, it's you, Theo, Marcus (who doesn't have any Occlumency), Lucius Malfoy, and Blaise Zabini. After you and Theo, my ability to trust the rest freely declines sharply. That's why I can't tell Sirius anything. Or at least not right now."
"Understood. I'll give this Prophecy some consideration. And perhaps pull out my old Divination books. I took it through OWLs, after all. We'll talk more about it over the Easter Break."
"Okay," said Harry. "But don't worry about it today. Stay close to the mirror and the Floo instead. I have a feeling either Rufus or Snape will be reaching out to you and Sirius in the next few hours."
Reg's eyes narrowed. "Harry? Are you scheming something?"
The boy sniffed. "I'm a Slytherin, Reg, just like you. We'll stop scheming when we're dead."
The Entrance to the Great Hall
7:00 a.m.
"Mr. Potter!" It was Malachi Sturgeon aka Remus Lupin aka Moony the Werewolf. Harry still marveled at how the Fidelius had actually persuaded him that there had been two Hogwarts students who shared the nickname 'Moony.' The Caretaker swiftly strode up to him.
"Yes, Mr. … Sturgeon?"
"Come with me, young man," Sturgeon said with what Harry had come to recognize as fake gruffness. Prepared for this encounter, Harry nodded to Blaise and then left the boy to follow Sturgeon to his office. Once inside, Remus Lupin dropped the grumpy caretaker act and could hardly contain his enthusiasm.
"Harry, I know this may seem like a strange request, but I must ask you to turn out your pockets and allow me to look through your bag."
"May I ask why, sir?" Harry asked politely.
Remus sighed. "Because I believe you have something in your possession that you should not. Now let me rephrase that as an order from a Hogwarts staff member. Hand over your bag and turn out your pockets."
"Of course," the boy said brightly as he complied. He emptied his pockets and his bookbag, but this time, there was nothing there to trigger Remus's excitement, as the Marauders' Map was presently sitting on a shelf in the Prince's Lair.
"May I ask what you're looking for, Mr. Lupin?"
"Harry, when we're alone, I do wish you would call me Remus. And I was looking for a special parchment which Peeves assured me you had. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Marauder's Map?"
"I'm afraid not," Harry lied with perfect ease. "What is it?"
"Well, it's an enchanted Map made by your father and … some of his friends back during our school days. I need it because I believe it can be used to track down Sirius Black and bring him to justice!"
"Wow, Remus! That's great! Gosh, I wish I could help you with it!"
"It's alright, Harry. It was foolish of me to simply rely on Peeves's honesty. It's a good thing I haven't given him those dung bombs yet."
"Very probably," Harry agreed while filing away for future reference the fact that Peeves was amenable to bribes.
Twenty minutes later …
After retrieving the Map from the Lair, Harry quickly set up a private meeting with Snape and Scrimgeour, though he was much more relaxed and composed for this one than the last time the three met together (from a subjective viewpoint anyway).
"Okay, first of all, there's a Fidelius in play, so I probably can't say everything I need to and will probably have to lie about some other things as a way of working around it." He activated the Map and set it on the table in front of the two Slytherins.
"This is the Marauders' Map. It was created by James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin when they were at school together, and believe it or not, they used it mainly for pranks instead of anything we would have used it for. Presently, the Caretaker, Malachi Sturgeon, is looking for it on behalf of Lupin and Pettigrew!"
"Why?" Snape asked suspiciously.
"Because in addition to showing the location of everyone in the castle and on the grounds, it can be modified to track down any of the Marauders wherever they are in the country even if hidden in an Unplottable location! In other words, Pettigrew can use it to track down Sirius!"
Snape and Scrimgeour looked at one another sharply.
"Does Sturgeon have any idea that it's in your possession?" the older man asked.
"Not yet," Harry replied. "But … I'm wondering if I should just give it to him."
"What on Earth for, Potter?!" Snape exclaimed.
"Well, my first thought was to just hide it and deny all knowledge of it. But then, I realized: If Pettigrew gets the Map, he won't just turn it over to the Aurors. Pettigrew wants Sirius dead before he has a chance to talk and maybe persuade someone of his innocence, and I imagine he also wants to find the other Death Eaters so he can free them. So, he'll probably go himself and bring Greyback's pack along for backup."
"A plausible theory, Potter," Scrimgeour agreed. "That does not explain why we should help him to achieve those goals."
"Yeah, well, it also occurred to me that if Pettigrew knows where Sirius is and is likely to go there personally along with a pack of werewolves, then we would know where Pettigrew is going to be at a time when he's doing something blatantly illegal that might expose him as a Death Eater!"
Snape snorted. "And do you have any actual plan for achieving that? Or just a vague, half-formed idea?"
"Just a vague, half-formed idea, Professor Snape. Which is why I brought it to the two cleverest Slytherins I know to see if you could turn it into an actual plan. If not, I can just hide the Map where no one will ever find it and then forget all about it."
"Potter …" Snape began to lecture, but Scrimgeour interrupted.
"Hang on, Snape." Scrimgeour's eyes blazed for a second. Then, he closed them in concentration for several seconds before speaking again. "We can use this!"
The Potion Master's head whipped around. "We can?!"
"Yes, I think so. Potter, let everyone know that DADA is canceled for the day. I expect I may need to leave the school for a few hours."
He studied the Map and observed the tiny footprints making their way around the castle. "Do you know how exactly this can be used to locate Black, Mr. Potter?"
"I don't know all the spellwork involved, Professor Scrimgeour, but it's connected to Sirius and the other Marauders by the Homunculous Charm."
"Never heard of it," the man replied. "Which means we'll need a Charms Master. Can you get Lucius on the Floo, Snape? Four snakes are better than three, after all."
Ancient Runes
11:55 a.m.
At the end of Ancient Runes, Harry leaned over to Blaise who'd been anxious all through class.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You've been twitchy all morning. Do you need to switch to decaf?"
"Very funny, Potter. And I'm perfectly fine. Now if you don't mind, I need to stay behind and speak to Professor Babbling. I have some questions about the assignment, and we won't see her again until after the Easter Break. I'll see you at lunch."
Harry looked at his friend oddly for a moment. "Sure thing," he finally said. Then, he made his way past Zabini and rushed to catch up with Hermione just outside the door.
"Hermione!"
The bushy-haired witch turned back to him.
"DADA is canceled this afternoon, so I was wondering if I could ask you to help me with a special project."
Hermione looked at him quizzically, if not suspiciously. "What sort of project?"
He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before leaning in to whisper. "It has to do with what came out of the Cryptohedron."
The girl stepped back in shock. "How did …?"
"Shhh!" he said with a smug grin. "Meet me near the Whomping Willow at one o'clock. No wait. Quarter past. I think I have a meeting with Luna Lovegood right after lunch."
Then, he sauntered on down the hall, leaving a shocked and confused Gryffindor behind him.
Inside the Ancient Runes classroom, Blaise Zabini and Bathsheba Babbling were engaged in a highly animated conversation that no one else heard because of some of the strongest privacy wards that had been cast on Hogwarts grounds in years.
Longbottom Manor
12:30 p.m.
"Well?" Rufus said as he stabbed a fork into a slice of Hoskins's famous Quiche Lorraine. "That's what I propose. What do you all think?"
Staring at the ex-Auror from around a very large table was every adult member of the Azkabal save Malfoy and Snape. And everyone of them was staring at Rufus with varying degrees of astonishment at his audacity. Sirius was the first to speak.
"Ted? Andi?" he inquired. "Am I cleared to drink Firewhiskey yet?"
The passage beneath the Whomping Willow
1:15 p.m.
Hermione had been surprised to learn from watching Harry that the Whomping Willow could be stilled by a Stunning Hex targeting a specific knot. She was considerably more surprised when a secret passage opened beneath the tree and Harry led her down inside.
"How did you know about this?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
"Through weirdness, maybe?" he answered with a smirk before continuing down the passageway to the door leading to the Shrieking Shack. As Harry had anticipated, Luna Lovegood met him after lunch to present him with the Oscar Wilde book again, and once again, she very smoothly humiliated Pansy Parksinson by questioning her knowledge of the word "dork." Somehow, it was even funnier the second time he saw it. But that wasn't all he saw. The young Legilimens played closer attention to Pansy's response, and he remembered he would have to do something about the prank she and her bigoted friends would play on SPAM in a few hours. Harry had way too much to do to spend the night in the Infirmary again.
"Where are we, Harry?" Hermione asked as he opened the door and led her into the Shack. "And why are you being so cryptic?"
He laughed. "Not so much fun when it's someone else being mysterious all the time, is it?"
"Point taken. So, what is this place?"
"This, Hermione, is the legendary Shrieking Shack. It's thought to be the most haunted spot in Britain, but in fact, it's not really haunted at all. That was a fiction the Unspeakables came up with so that they could run experiments here back in the 1970's."
The witch did a double take. "Experiments? What sort of experiments?'
"Between a Fidelius and an Oath, I can't say everything, but I can tell you this much. Back in the day, the Unspeakables found a werewolf who'd been infected with lycanthropy as a small child and somehow held his sanity. He was allowed to attend Hogwarts, and he was brought here every full moon so that they could monitor his transformations and use him for experiments on potential cures for lycanthropy."
Hermione shuddered at the thought of experiments performed on a child, no matter how worthy the cause. "Did they ever find one?"
"No," Harry answered. "Just a potion that would let werewolves keep their human intelligence while transformed. Which was nice for the sane werewolf they were experimenting on, but not so much for all the psychotic werewolves out there who could use the potion to go on mass killing sprees."
She blanched. "Interesting. Also horrible. But what does all that have to do with … what did you call it? A Cryptohedron?"
"Hermione, it's okay. I brought you here in part because I wanted a good look at this place in case it became necessary for later, but mainly so that you and I would be able to talk – and I mean really talk – without being overheard. I know about the Cryptohedron, I know about the Time-Turner, and I know that you are a time traveler."
Hermione gaped at her friend who simply smiled at her. "And by the way, thank you for saving me and Jim from the Dementor. And for everything else you've been doing since last summer."
"Harry! How do you know all this?"
"Easy. You told me!" he exclaimed. "Or will tell me. Man, verb tenses are tough when you're a time traveler, aren't they? But anyway, on the morning of March 28, you stunned a pair of Unspeakables and reprogrammed the Cryptohedron with my astrological information so that I could then summon the Time-Turner and travel back in time."
She gasped. "How far did you go?! And why?!"
"Not far at all," Harry answered. "I arrived this morning just before dawn. And you sent me back because in that prior timeline, I did something innocuous but still stupid that had the snowball effect of getting several innocent people killed and also delivering the werewolf potion I just mentioned into the hands of Peter Pettigrew who really is a Death Eater. He admitted in front of James Potter and myself that he was the one who really betrayed my family to Voldemort before framing Sirius Black for it and sending him to Azkaban. He also has some innate ability to mind control werewolves, and his plan is to use the potion to build a werewolf army loyal to him."
Hermione accepted all that with surprising equanimity. She had traveled to the current timeline from a dystopian future, after all.
"And as a result of all that," she said, "I had - or will have - the insane idea of sending you back in time to fix it? That sounds incredibly reckless of me!"
"Well, you are a Gryffindor."
"I will hex you, Harry Potter."
Harry laughed. "To be fair, I think you only decided to do it after I warned you about the possibility of a Werewolf Apocalypse. But you reassured me that the Time-Turner itself was okay with it or it would have stopped you. Next thing I know, I've gone back in time, the people who I watched die over the last two days are alive, and I'm back to calling myself Potter instead of No-Name."
Hermione gasped. "James disinherited you?!"
"James used the Ultimate Sanction on me."
The witch's face turned almost red with anger. "Your father … did that?! That … that … honestly, I don't even know what to call him!"
"I think 'vile fiend' was the phrase you used when I told you the first time."
"And I was clearly justified. Can you avoid whatever actions gave him a basis for using the Sanction?"
"I think so. I've got plans in motion." He hesitated. "There's … something else that happened. I want to share with you. Well, share most of it anyway. Before I came back, I heard a True Prophecy."
"From whom?! Please say it wasn't Professor Trelawney! Or … Oh Good Lord! Please say it wasn't from me!"
Despite the seriousness, Harry laughed. "Are you afraid you might be a seer after all?"
Hermione huffed. "With everything else that's happened this year, it would be a perfectly ironic capstone."
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but it wasn't you. And it wasn't Trelawney, either. Or at least, not our Trelawney. I heard it from James It was a recitation of a True Prophecy given from one of Trelawney's ancestors to a Potter back in the 18th century."
And with that, Harry revealed the entire 1780 Potter Prophecy … almost.
And you shall know by these portents
that the time of the Dark God approaches
and the Destruction of our World
is close at hand:
When the Two who should be as One
Are set against each other in reckless hate
And the Last Potter … Something Something.
Hermione had listened to the entire prophecy with an expression of increasing horror until Harry reached the last line. Then, her expression turned to one of confusion instead.
"Something … something? What? Did the seer nod off and start mumbling at that point?"
"Sorry, the last line, unfortunately, implicates something I'm involved with that's covered by an unrelated oath."
Hermione nodded. "But you're afraid the trigger for all the preceding 'trapped forever in the Dark God's Hell' business is you and Jim hating one another and you personally … doing the something something you can't tell me about?"
"Exactly."
"Hang on, though," she said thoughtfully. "Harry, you're not the Last Potter. Are you? I mean, Jim was born after you, right? Surely, he's the Last Potter, at least until one of you has children of your own!"
"I know. And I don't understand that part. All I know is that I am the first Potter in at least 200 years to be in a position to … do the Something, so I can't help but wonder if something's going to happen in the near future to make me the Last Potter."
"Is that why James used the Ultimate Sanction? To eliminate any possibility of you being a Potter in any possible prophetic sense?"
Harry nodded and looked away. Even though it had been undone by his time travel, Harry was still inwardly furious at James for invoking the Ultimate Sanction. Not only because of how it would have ruined all his own plans or even because it was cruel, but also because it was just so stupid! If James Potter had only sat him down at some point and explained the Prophecy to him, they could have worked something out. He'd already been making plans for emancipation during the summer, and while Pettigrew's original bribe of two-million Galleons was small change, the boy felt sure they could have come to acceptable terms for him simply leaving the family voluntarily. Instead, James had dropped the social equivalent of an atom bomb on his son, and worse, in a way that ensured he and Jim would hate each other forever!
"Honestly, what is it about James Potter that always drives him to make the worst choice?" Harry thought. "It can't just be a Gryffindor thing! I can't imagine Hermione or Neville ever being that short-sighted!"
After some thought, Hermione spoke up. "Well, I'll give it some thought … what with my Third Eye and all. But at first glance, it seems you only have two options. Stop being a Potter, or make sure that you never … something something. Or both, I suppose, if you want to be thorough."
"Yeah," Harry said sourly. "I kind of figured as much."
Hermione looked around the room which was dimly lit by her and Harry's twin Lumos spells. "So, Pettigrew brought you and your father here, what, to gloat?"
"Yes! He actually gave a monologue! As a Slytherin, I was deeply offended." Then, his mouth twitched as he recalled what happened, and he swallowed deeply before continuing.
"He put Marcus Flint under the Imperius and had him stun me and bring me here. I don't know how he got James here. Not important, I guess. But he also had … the werewolf I mentioned here."
There was a sudden hitch in his voice. "Pettigrew just killed Marcus in front of me. For no reason except cruelty. And then, he left us right as the werewolf started to transform. The guy was begging Pettigrew not to do it – somehow, in all his years, he'd never actually killed anyone during a transformation. I was to be his first victim."
"But you killed him instead," Hermione said softly. Harry nodded, his eyes blinking rapidly. "He's alive now, though, right? Alright then, we'll just have to keep him that way."
She took a step forward. "Permission to hug you?"
Harry chuckled. "Okay, just this once."
The Gryffindor pulled Harry into a gentle hug as he brought his emotions back under control. Then, they separated and made a quick exploration of the Shack. Everything was as Harry remembered it from his brief imprisonment here, but one thing in an adjacent room caught Hermione's eye: a glint of metal that caught the light of her wand from something near the front door of the Shack.
It was a small brass orb with a cracked shell and a shattered glass lens embedded in one side.
"Harry, what do you make of this?" she asked as she picked the object up.
He shrugged. "I don't know. It wasn't here before … in the future, I mean. Maybe Pettigrew moved it or something. What do you think it is?"
Hermione studied the orb carefully and made note of a series of runes carved onto the brass casing.
"You said the Unspeakables used this place for testing?"
"Yes. Why?"
The witch turned the orb over to examine the glass lens, and then, her mouth puckered as if she were pouting.
"I swear, if the Unspeakables actually have audio-visual recording equipment while the rest of Wizarding Britain is stuck listening to radio shows like from out of the 1940's. …!"
"You think it's a camera?!"
"Yes. Though I suppose wizards have some insipidly twee name for it. Probably one that's also a terrible pun. Eye-Spy or something like that."
Harry's expression grew speculative. "Do you think it can be repaired?"
"Possibly," she said with a smile. "Luckily, I'm part of a very good research team!"
Ministry of Magic
Auror Department
The Office of Senior Auror Pius Thicknesse
1:45 p.m.
Pius Thicknesse had been quite surprised and somewhat confused when his former boss, Rufus Scrimgeour, showed up in his office out of the blue to "visit and reminisce." While he'd always admired the legendary figure, Pius had only recently moved into the Senior ranks. Before that, his memories of things the two men could reminisce about were limited to delivering case reports and occasionally getting yelled at back in his salad days. Alas at Hogwarts, Pius had been a Gryffindor, and though he was a good bit sharper than the stereotypical lion, he was certainly not accustomed to the subtleties of small talk with a Slytherin. Consequently, he was completely gobsmacked when Rufus finally got to the point of his visit.
"So, let me see if I've got this quite straight," Pius said slowly. "You have information – from a source who wishes to remain anonymous but who you consider to be completely reliable – as to the current location of Fenrir Greyback's pack?!"
"Yes," Rufus answered placidly. "That sums up the situation precisely."
The Senior Auror stared at the old wizard in confusion. "Okay then. But why are you bringing this to me? Why not straight to the Chief …?"
Pius trailed off in embarrassment as he remembered that the man sitting across from his desk had been the Chief Auror less than a year before. And he suspected that Scrimgeour had no love for his replacement, particularly since he'd been forced into retirement after being gravely wounded at a birthday party for said replacement's sons!
"Because I would like to see this matter handled competently instead of someone rushing in as flashily as possible because he cares more about P.R. benefits than proper procedure. How's that for an answer? I can give you the location I believe they're using as a base, but the timing must be precise because, according to my sources, the werewolves may not actually be there until sometime tonight."
Scrimgeour smirked. "And I gather James Potter likes to be out of the office no later than four o'clock in the afternoon. Perhaps because that's when Happy Hour starts at the Leaky Cauldron? Though I suppose I shouldn't spread base rumors like that."
"Chief … Mr. Scrimgeour…."
"Please, Senior Auror. I'm just a civilian now. Call me Rufus."
"Okay, then, Rufus. I know about your feelings towards Chief Potter. And I must warn you I have no intention of acting against him to further some scheme of yours. Especially when the matter involves something as serious as werewolves!"
"Why, Senior Auror! I would never ask you to do something nefarious. And your sense of loyalty to James Potter is inspiring, especially since you were a Gryffindor rather than a Hufflepuff. Three years ahead of Potter, wasn't it? It must have been frustrating to see someone three years your junior be elevated above you to a Senior Auror slot. And at such a young age, too! I believe that was seven years he held this very office while you remained a Junior, wasn't it? Oh, well – you're here at last!"
Pius glared at the man and his insinuations. "I'm not jealous of James Potter."
"Of course not. Jealousy is when you're angry that someone is simply better than you in some way. Being justifiably angry over someone's unfair political advantage due solely from having a famous son isn't jealousy. It's righteous indignation."
Before the Auror could respond, Rufus continued. "By the way, I'm curious. What was it like to share a dorm for four years with young James Potter?"
Pius's glare deepened, but now, it was no longer directed solely at Scrimgeour.
"My last name is Thicknesse, Rufus," he finally said with a hint of a sneer. "And Potter and his cronies prided themselves on what they thought of as being witty. I'm sure you can just imagine the nicknames for me they gleefully spread across the school for four years!"
Scrimgeour snorted softly in commiseration. "Yes, I suppose I can. But it was a bit more than cruel nicknames, wasn't it? I seem to recall something in your file about an incident late in your Sixth Year …?"
Thicknesse shot out of his chair angrily. "Yes, I'm sure you do recall it, Rufus, since it's still in my permanent file! Yes! Late in my Sixth Year, those damned Marauders played a mean-spirited and embarrassing prank on me that humiliated me in front of half the school, and I lost my temper and hexed Potter and his friends badly. Which, as I'm sure you know, is not something one does to the Heir of an Ancient and Noble House. I spent the last month of school in detention and lost my Prefect's badge, even though I'd been the leading candidate to become Head Boy during my last year!"
He slapped his hand against the desk. "But dammit, Rufus! I'm not a schoolboy anymore! And I have no intention of jeopardizing my job just to get back at James Potter for something that happened twenty years ago, let alone mucking about where bloody werewolves are concerned!"
"Pius, my boy! You have nothing to worry about. I'm not asking you to do anything like that."
The Senior Auror fell back in his chair. "Well for Merlin's sake, what are you asking me to do?!"
Rufus brought his hands up and steepled his fingers as he fixed Thicknesse with an intense gaze.
"I am simply asking for you to do your job, Senior Auror. I am asking you to work late tonight. And when you receive word from an anonymous but trusted source as to the location of those bloody werewolves, that you investigate and act appropriately. But I am also asking that if James Potter has already left for the day, you do not trouble him over what might well be a wild goose chase. You are a Senior Auror. You have the authority to pursue leads on your own initiative and to request backup from the junior Aurors and the DMLE as you see fit.
"All I ask, Pius, is that you do this in a way that will earn you the accolades that you deserve instead of allowing a man who you do not particularly respect nor even like to step in and claim all the glory for himself … again!"
Rufus spread his arms out magnanimously and smiled. "Now, is that really so much to ask for?"
Hogwarts
The Caretaker's Office
4:30 p.m.
"What can I do for you, Harry?" Remus asked in surprise as the young Slytherin stepped into his room.
"It's … it's about that matter you mentioned this morning," Harry said contritely. "You know, the Map?"
"What about it?" Remus asked somewhat suspiciously. Then, he gasped as Harry pulled the familiar parchment from a pocket.
"I'm sorry, Remus. I should have told you this morning. The truth is – I've had the Map for quite some time. But I'd given it to Theo No-Name. You know how he's been treated lately what with the Ultimate Sanction and all. So, I gave him the Map so that he could avoid people affected by the Sanction who are prone to hexing him in the halls."
Then, he gave the former Marauder a somewhat pointed look. "You know how cruel bullies can be."
Remus winced slightly. "Er, yes, I, ah, do indeed. Though hopefully, they eventually grow out of it. But I understand and applaud your decision to help your friend. With luck, I can get this back to you before the end of Easter Break!"
Harry nodded. "So, what exactly will you be doing with it?"
"It's a bit complicated, but I have a friend I need to show this to at once. We'll need to modify the spellwork on the Map, but once we have, it will lead us straight to Sirius Black!"
Harry smiled broadly. "Well, then. I'll leave you to it. Here's hoping everything goes according to plan!"
The Law Office of Peter Pettigrew, Esq.
4:50 p.m.
"Let me handle it."
Remus blinked a few times. Then, he smiled. "Alright. If you insist. Thank you, Peter. It's good to know you'll always have my back."
Peter smiled. "Of course! That's what friends are for!" Then, he cocked his head as a new thought sprang to mind.
"Still it might be necessary to let James know of your identity when I meet with him. By any chance, do you have that note with the Secret written out on it?"
Remus returned his best friend's smile as he reached into his jacket pocket.
The Prince's Lair
6:00 p.m.
"Well?"
Theo No-Name just stared wide-eyed at his best friend. "That's … a lot to take in in under a minute, Harry. Let me see if I've got everything. You can't tell me the source of your information, but you believe Peter Pettigrew is trying to steal a potion that lets him control intelligent werewolves. You're not only involved with the Azkaban breakout, you're an official member of – and I can't believe you're allowing it to be called this – the Azkabal, but you can't give me any specifics. Sirius Black is innocent. Regulus Black is alive and spent our Second Year posing as Gilderoy Lockhart before lobotomizing the real Gilderoy Lockhart. But despite that, he's a good guy. Peter Pettigrew is not just an evil lawyer but is also a Death Eater which may or may not be worse. And the real reason your father hates you is a True Prophecy from 1780 that predicts a Potter becoming Prince of Slytherin will bring about the end of the world. Have I left anything out?"
"No, those are all the important points, I think. Oh, this isn't a major thing, but I have reason to believe the Cultural Preservation Society is planning to poison everyone in SPAM later tonight with a poorly conceived prank. But I've already taken care of it so that won't happen. Also, I think your Wu Xi Do instructor is currently Peter Pettigrew's prisoner, but it'll turn out alright. I hope."
"Right. Got it." Theo nodded slowly. "Thank you for trusting me with all this information."
"I trust you completely, Theo. I have since we were First Years."
"I'm glad to hear that Harry. It means a lot to me. By the way, Ron Weasley is a Parselmouth."
"… what?"
"Yeah, I'd promised to keep it a secret, but in light of everything you just dropped on me, I feel strangely obligated to reveal a secret of my own, and that's really the only one I can think of."
Peter Pettigrew's apartment in Diagon Alley
6:15 p.m.
"So what do you want us to do with this, Peter?" Fenrir said gruffly as he peered over the Marauder's Map.
"As it is? Nothing. It's not ready yet."
As Peter spoke, he fished a small vial out of his jacket pocket containing several drops of Remus Lupin's blood. After removing the cork, he added a few drops of his own blood, followed by two black hairs taken from small vials in the chest. One was labeled Sirius Black and the other James Potter. He swirled the vial in his hand before upending it over the Marauders' Map. Then, he touched his wand to the blood and hair spatter and muttered a few words. Instantly, the display of Hogwarts melted away. After a few seconds, there were only four dots remaining: Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew grouped close together to the bottom, and Sirius Black further up.
Peter furrowed his brow as he compared the Marauders' Map to a map of Great Britain.
"What is it?" Fenrir asked. Peter looked up at him with a confused expression.
"What the hell is Sirius Black doing in … Suffolk?!"
Neither Fenrir nor Stavros had any answers to that. Nor did Remus Lupin, who was in the spare bedroom, unconscious from the Draught of Living Death that Peter had slipped into his tea.
Hogwarts
The SPAM Meeting Room
6:30 p.m.
The door to the classroom opened slightly, just enough for Cedric Diggory to see inside.
"The coast is clear," he whispered to his confederate and girlfriend, Cho Chang. The two quickly entered, with Chang carrying a sheet cake on a silver platter. There was a table already set up with snacks and punch provided by the school's house elves, but it took Diggory only a few seconds to rearrange the table to make room for the cake.
"You think it looks alright?" Diggory said nervously.
"It looks fine, Ced," the Ravenclaw replied. "Those SPAM brats will never know what hit them!"
"And what, exactly, will hit them, Cho Chang?" said an unexpected voice from the far side of the room.
It was Head Boy Bobby Latimer who whipped off an Invisibility Cloak to reveal himself, George Weasley, and Percy Weasley. The three had been waiting here in response to a tip from Hermione who had told Jim that she'd "overheard some slimy snakes plotting to poison us at our meeting tonight," an accusation that Jim easily accepted as true once he heard it.
But there were no Slytherins here now, just a Hufflepuff prefect and his girlfriend, the Ravenclaw Seeker.
"Lattimer," Cedric stammered. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question, Diggory. You're not a member of SPAM, are you? So why, might I ask, are you gifting them with a dessert?"
While Diggory and Chang struggled to come up with an excuse for their presence, George strode past them to the table. He stuck his finger into the frosting and then put it in his mouth before spitting the frosting out angrily.
"Tastes a lot like the recipe for Disparaging Dainties, though it's not diluted enough. Apparently, these Pureblood wankers can't follow a recipe very well. Good thing we caught 'em before they made anyone sick!"
"George!" Percy chided.
"Sorry, Percy, I couldn't help myself. It's the potion in the frosting, you see." George said with a smirk.
"I don't know what you're on about, Weasley!" Cho Chang spat. "That cake is … just a gift from the CPS to SPAM! A peace offering, so to speak."
"Well, then," he answered merrily. "In the interests of keeping the peace, why don't you prove to us that the cake is safe to eat … by having a slice yourself."
As George spoke, he cut off two bite-sized slices of cake with a few wand slashes and then levitated them onto small plates which he handed off to Diggory and Chang. The two looked down at the plates and then up at each other. With a visible gulp, Diggory picked up the small slice of cake and popped it into his mouth. He chewed cautiously for a few seconds and then swallowed before turning to Bobby Lattimer with nervous expression.
"You see?" he said. "There's nothing at all wrong with the cake … M-m-mudblood!"
Bobby sighed and shook his head in disappointment. "Come on, you two. We're going to see the Deputy Headmistress."
Later …
"You're late!" Oliver barked at George when he finally made it into the Gryffindor locker room.
"Sorry, prefect business," George said. Fred scoffed at that, and in return, George shot him a dirty look before turning to Jim. "By the way, I gave your cloak to Ron to hold until after practice. Thanks, Jim. It worked perfectly."
"Who was it?" Jim asked excitedly. "Some of the Slytherins?"
"No, actually. It was Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. They tried to trick the SPAM kids into eating a potion-laced cake!" He glanced over towards his twin with a sneer.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, oh Brother-of-Mine?"
"Not a blessed thing," Fred responded through gritted teeth. "Though I thank you for assuming that I might try to poison the members of a club I belong to!"
"Enough!" Oliver Wood exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly. "I don't want to hear anything more about stupid pranks or SPAM! Let's … let's just get up in the air."
The Gryffindors' late-night practice passed without incident, as did the SPAM meeting (now that the offending cake had been removed). Cedric Diggory took full responsibility for the aborted prank and refused to name any co-conspirators. He and Cho Chang were each docked twenty house points and sentenced to a week of detentions after the upcoming Easter Break, but as no one was hurt or even affected, no further penalties were imposed.
The Weasley Twins did not find common ground, and so their feud continued. Pansy Parkinson would not receive a Howler the next day, as House Parkinson lost no galleons due to her failed prank. Harry decided not to tell Hermione how much money he'd inadvertently cost her charity by not letting the prank play out as it did before.
After the uneventful SPAM meeting …
"So, tell me again where you got this thing?" Anthony Goldstein said suspiciously as he held up the brass orb Hermione had given him earlier in the day.
"Tell me if you can fix it first," Harry replied while Hermione and Su looked on with interest.
"Not completely," Anthony answered. "Basically, it's a magical video camera that can fly under its own power and record whatever it sees. That's a lot of runes carved into it. Restoring complete functionality would take months."
"What about just the recording functions?"
"Fixing the audio part should be pretty easy. Most of those runes are still intact. But I'd have to replace the lens with something custom-made to get it to make video recordings. And it would take weeks to repair all the damaged runes that allow it to fly."
"But if I just needed an audio recorder?"
Anthony glanced over to his partner, Su Li. "Tomorrow before lunch?"
Harry smiled. "Perfect."
"But what do you need it for?" Su Li asked suspiciously.
"Let's just say … insurance." Harry smiled at the two Ravenclaws, who studied him suspiciously but were willing to be drawn into "Slytherin schemes" for a chance to work with the orb. To a pair of ambitious young Ravenclaws, the possibility of reverse-engineering the odd device was too intoxicating to ignore.
Dunny-on-the-Wold, Suffolk
11:45 p.m.
Dunny-on-the-Wold was a tuppenny-ha'penny place – half an acre of sodden marshland in the Suffolk Fens with a single farmhouse on it. The entire population consisted of an elderly Muggle farmer with three rather mangy cows, a dachshund named Colin, and a small hen in its late forties. Said farmer was, naturally quite surprised when a gentleman from London showed up three weeks ago to purchase Dunny-on-the-Wold for far more than it was worth. Soon after, the farmer, the cows, the dachshund, and the hen had moved on, and "the Azkabal" set about making the farmhouse into a suitable "secret base" for the next phase of their plan.
Earlier today, those plans were suddenly accelerated when Rufus Scrimgeour summoned the other conspiracy members and explained his proposal. This led to a mad dash of transporting comatose prisoners, plus one magically altered and preserved corpse, from Longbottom Manor to the disused farmhouse and then finalizing the farm's defensive wards. Their work complete, most of the conspirators departed Dunny-on-the-Wold, leaving the Black brothers and their cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, behind to wait. They only had one portkey between them, but it was a very special (if experimental) one.
The endgame of "Operation Marcellus Frump" began just after nine o'clock, when three Aurors led by Pius Thicknesse Apparated to a position a quarter mile away from the farmhouse to set up surveillance. The wizards quickly discerned that there were three figures moving about the farmhouse, two males and one female. But it was impossible to tell anything more than that due to the surprisingly sophisticated wards and defenses on the place. Disarming those defenses would take time, while a frontal assault would warn whoever was inside before they could get through.
Auror Dawlish proposed attacking anyway, but Pius overruled him. If the tip was truly accurate, he explained, then an unknown number of werewolves would descend on this place sometime tonight, and he didn't want to get caught with attackers on both sides. Instead, they would wait behind wards and Notice-Me-Not Charms of their own until the ideal time to strike. Back at headquarters, another squad of Junior Aurors and a dozen DMLE hit wizards were waiting on standby if reinforcements were needed.
The Senior Auror's patience was rewarded at a quarter to midnight when several soft pops heralded new arrivals. It was young Savage who was manning the Omnioculars that first saw them.
"Thicknesse, I read eight figures. Seven are definitely partially transformed werewolves, and I have a positive ID on Fenrir Greyback. The last figure seems to be a wizard … in what appears to be a Death Eater uniform!"
"Are we going in?" asked Dawlish nervously.
"Hold position," Thicknesse answered. "If there's that many of them, we'll need backup." Then, he pulled his wand and summoned his turtle Patronus with a message for Auror Control that included the Apparation coordinates to their location.
"Your Patronus is a turtle?" Dawlish said with some amusement.
"Yes, it is, Dawlish," Thicknesse muttered tightly. "Remind me – what's yours again?"
"… touché," replied his fellow Auror who had yet to master the difficult Charm.
The Aurors returned to their surveillance, but they were surprised by what happened next. The werewolves made no effort to enter the farmhouse. Instead, they took up positions around the building and then cast the Dark Mark over it before targeting the wards with Blasting Curses. Although the shielding spells cast on the farmhouse held up for the moment, the building would likely not stand much longer. While confused by this development, Pius decided that, whatever the werewolves' objective, it would be best to thwart it. At his direction, the three Aurors mounted brooms they'd brought along and took to the air before targeting the werewolves with their most powerful curses.
For the first few minutes, the Aurors, despite their aerial tactics, were at a disadvantage due to the werewolves' superior numbers and damage resistance. But soon, reinforcements arrived, and the werewolves began to fall. It took four simultaneous Stunners to take down Fenrir Greyback, and in response, the lone Death Eater surprised everyone by turning into a small animal of some kind and scampering into the underbrush before anyone could think to target it. Within minutes, three of the werewolves were dead and the rest incapacitated … at which point, the farmhouse shook violently from the sound of some internal explosion.
After securing the scene, Pius Thicknesse led a squad into the farmhouse, but to his surprise, the place was empty.
"How did they get out while the Dark Mark was up?" Savage asked. "It blocks Apparation and Portkeys!"
One hint as to the answer was found in the living room where the floor was scorched and blackened (and in some areas was still burning, though the flames were quickly extinguished). There were some recently used bedrolls against the wall, but what drew Pius's attention was a thick wooden box on the kitchen table that had a note which read "OPEN ME!" stuck to the top. Pius checked it for traps before opening it. On the inside were several vials which looked to contain stored memories, along with a sealed letter labeled "For the Aurors."
Before Pius could examine the box or the letter any further, Dawlish called for him from a nearby staircase leading down.
"Thicknesse! You need to see this!"
Pius closed the box and scooped it up under his arms before following his fellow Auror down the stairs. At the bottom was a large cellar containing four bodies resting on pallets. One was clearly dead but preserved in a medical stasis Charm, and it appeared to be Bellatrix Lestrange! Two others were clearly the Lestrange Brothers, both of whom were comatose. The fourth figure was also comatose, and after removing the metal mask covering his face (which, oddly, had been charmed to play an annoying Muggle tune of some kind on a loop), he was revealed as Augustus Rookwood.
"Holy shit!" Pius muttered to himself.
"Looks like your anonymous source knew more than they were telling," Dawlish noted. "Care to tell us who he or she is now?"
"He … or she … wants anonymity, Dawlish. Ask me again when all those clowns are back in custody where they belong, and we'll see if that's still the case."
Within thirty minutes, the Aurors had completely secured the scene of the crime and transported the Death Eaters back to holding cells at the Ministry.
At which point things became … complicated.
Peter Pettigrew's Apartment
27 March 1994
12:20 a.m.
With a loud pop, Peter Apparated into his apartment still covered in mud. Angrily, he threw back his hood and ripped off his Death Eater mask. Then, he spent the next minute cursing a blue streak. After getting that out of his system, he poured himself a double shot of Firewhiskey and downed it instantly.
"Okay, okay," he babbled to himself. "So that was a complete disaster. But Fenrir and Stavros were the only ones who could identify me, and neither of them will break under torture. At least, not immediately. So, I just need to calm down and …."
Before he could finish that sentence, he was distracted by a strange vibration in his jacket pocket. He reached into the pocket and pulled out the Marauders' Map, which was the source of the sensation. With twitchy hands, he unfolded the Map and saw that there was writing on it. Writing he'd never seen from the Marauder's Map before, but whose handwriting looked familiar.
Hello Peter,
How's your night been so far? Mine has been quite enjoyable watching your little werewolf pals get put down like the feral animals they are. Of course, it was a disappointment that you got away, but you won't get far. It's over!
Peter stared at the Map in utter confusion. "Who are you?!" he screamed.
Haha! Who do you think? You've been using our Map to track me with the Homunculous Charm, but it turns out that connection can work both ways. In fact, according to a Charms expert of my acquaintance, there's all kinds of clever things you can do with the Homunculous Charm!
"SIRIUS!" Peter shrieked furiously. But then, his anger gave way to fear. Quickly, he darted over to the fireplace and tossed the Map onto the cold embers before blasting it with an Incendio. Then, he looked around wildly as if afraid there was already a big black Grim watching him from the shadows.
Shaking off the urge to panic, Peter ran to his desk and quickly jotted out two letters which he then sealed. Next to the desk was an owl cage. He banged on the cage loudly to wake up the occupant, a Eurasian pygmy owl named Gofer that stood barely six inches tall. Peter had needed an owl, of course. No wizarding solicitor could function without one. But at heart, he was and always would be a rat, and he always had the vague suspicion that all owls, including his own, looked at him as potential food. Consequently, he picked one small enough that Wormtail could take him in a fight if it came to it.
He handed off the letters to the tiny yet indignant owl. "Take this letter to Gringotts immediately. Do not wait for a reply. Carry the second one to Jim Potter at Hogwarts. After that, you are free. Do not return to me."
Gofer hooted loudly at that, and Peter didn't know whether it was angry or delighted at the dismissal, not that it mattered to him either way. He opened the window and practically tossed the pygmy owl from it. Then, he looked around the room as if deciding what he needed to take, assuming he even had time to take anything at all. Luckily, there was truly only one thing that mattered, and it was easy to transport.
Peter marched over to the picture on the wall – the one with the four teenaged Marauders – and activated its enchantment before entering the secret room hidden behind it in wizard-space. He was only inside for a few minutes before emerging with a leather satchel slung over his shoulder and a small object in his hands. It was a tin box painted in bright childish colors with a hand-turned crank on one side. He set the box on the coffee table in his living room and carefully turned the crank a few times causing the box to play a soft tune that Muggles would recognize as "Pop Goes the Weasel." An odd choice to be sure, for there were no weasels on the box, just bright green snakes with happy cartoonish faces that were climbing bright yellow ladders on a bright orange background.
He cranked the box until the tune was nearly complete. And then, he edged away from it with incredible caution, as if the slightest mistake could mean death. Which, in this instance, it likely would.
Angrily, Peter snatched the picture of the Marauders off the wall before stuffing it into the satchel. Then, he carefully make his way around the table and the box to his spare bedroom where Remus Lupin lay sleeping the sleep of the dead. Peter looked at his friend fondly. And then, he looked to the window, through which the light of the nearly full moon shone.
"I'm not beaten yet, Padfoot," he said. "Not by a long shot."
Hogwarts
Harry's Room
27 March 1994
1:00 a.m.
Harry had retired to his room almost immediately after the SPAM meeting ended to await the news. To pass the time, he'd been perusing a book he'd found in the Library about Animagi when his mirror finally began to vibrate. He snatched it up and activated it.
"Well?!" he exclaimed.
Regulus chuckled. "Relax. Everything went off mostly without a hitch. Rufus's contacts in the Ministry say that Greyback's entire pack is now locked up in holding cells along with the Lestranges and Rookwood, who are all still under Draught of Living Death. The only injury to the good guys were a few burns we all suffered due to George Weasley's Super-Portkey, which still has some kinks in it but works better than it did at Azkaban. The Tonkses have already healed us all up."
"And Pettigrew?" Harry pressed.
Regulus sighed. "He got away … for now. But the memory samples we left behind clearly implicate him, and the Aurors on the scene reported a masked wizard in Death Eater robes accompanying the werewolves who escaped by transforming into a rat."
"Uh-huh. And what was James's response to that news?"
"Unknown, so far. In fact, Rufus speculates that the Senior Auror who led the raid may be keeping him out of the loop for now. But even if he's involved, well, I know you don't think much of the man, but surely he's not such a buffoon that he would ignore the evidence against Pettigrew!"
"I wouldn't bet a single Knut when it comes to my father's potential for buffoonery. Can the Rat still track Sirius with the Map?"
"No, the Homunculous connection was severed shortly after Sirius sent him a taunting message through that Charm Lucius provided. Most likely because Pettigrew destroyed the Map."
"… a taunting message? Was that really the most practical idea under the circumstances?"
"Yes, actually. Lucius figured out how to use Sirius's Homunculous link to the Map to send Pettigrew a message, but that's really all we could do. So, we had him taunt Pettigrew into thinking we could do more in order to manipulate him into destroying the only means he had of tracking us. I am sorry for the loss of your heirloom, though."
Harry grimaced. "Well, I liked that Map. But I like having a godfather more. I still wish the Aurors had caught him though."
"It will be alright, Harry," Regulus said reassuringly. "Try to get some rest." A second later, the mirror image returned to Harry's normal reflection.
But sleep did not come. Harry stared up at the darkened ceiling pensively. So long as Pettigrew was free, he couldn't rest. He'd watched too many good people die in the prior timeline to take anything for granted.
"Time flies when one wastes it," Harry muttered to himself. It was a quote from one of Salazar Slytherin's books he'd found in the Prince's Lair. Harry rubbed his face with his hands. Then, he blinked suddenly in confusion.
"Time … flies…."
Instantly, he sat up in bed and summoned his wand to his hand. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A hotel room in Le Quartier Magique, Paris, France
Just a few moments later …
Albus Dumbledore awoke suddenly from a deep slumber at the explosion of silvery light that instantly appeared in his hotel room. It was a Patronus, and one he'd never seen before, which manifested as a very long and intimidating boa constrictor. Dumbledore's surprise grew into astonishment when the Patronus spoke in the voice of a student he knew very well.
"Professor Dumbledore, this is Harry Potter. I'm sorry to wake you so late, but some things have happened back here in Britain that I think demand your attention." The voice hesitated for a second before delivering two final fateful words. "Tempus fugit!"
The old man's eyes widened in astonishment as the Patronus faded away, and then, he drew a deep breath.
"FAAAAAWKKEEES!"
Next: James gets a wake-up call. Peter strikes back. And Prof. Trelawney has something to add.
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): Nothing new, atm.
AN3: Special thanks to my Discord editors:
Anne-athema Codex, crag, BlueWater5, Dr. Nemo, Flareix_, Happy (Chelonie), HeidiWolf, Kid Coheed, Krisni, Luc the Virtual Arm Twister, Pavi, Pivosh, pizdets UTC+10, Pokeflute, Prince of Conspiracy, sfu, Sigurd, Skyrmion, and Team Frigg. Thanks guys!
AN4: Vital Statistics: Reviews: 13,045. Followers: 14,090. Favorites: 12,243. Communities: 214. Discord followers: Over 2000! Go Team POS!
AN5: The description of Dunny-on-the-Wold (that "tuppenny-ha'penny place") is from the Blackadder III episode "Dish and Dishonesty," if anyone was wondering about the strange longevity of that hen.