Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no profit off of this story.
Unfortunately, the plan to capture Peter Pettigrew went wrong from the very beginning. Apparating in far enough away from the Burrough so as not to wake the family with the distinctive sound, the midnight visitor made his silent way toward the house. Or, at least, it was silent until the garden gnomes attacked his ankles with their fierce teeth.
"Mother of Merlin!" the would-be intruder swore softly and did a funny jig to dislodge the pests. This wasn't enough to deter them and every few steps he would swear again and jump around.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, he reached the house. Sliding open a ground floor window, he slithered in and landed in a heap on the floor. Something made a squelching sound under him and he grimaced as he stood up from the finger paints that one of the children had left out. He groaned in dismay and made for the stairs.
He made it up the stairs without mishap, remembering to avoid the creaky spot on the third step. He eased open the bedroom door so carefully it didn't even squeak. Inside, the bedroom was decorated sparsely with a few colorful pictures waving and smiling and two shiny posters. There was a dresser and a dusty toy trunk in one corner, a twin bed against the wall under the window. A tousled red head peeked out from underneath the covers.
The intruder drew his wand.
"Point me Peter Pettigrew!" he whispered, waiting for his wand to tug him toward the bed. It didn't. Instead, his wand was tugging insistently toward the side. The man inspected the dresser closely, seeing an empty rat cage but no rat. He pulled open the drawers and looked inside but the rat wasn't there either. Kneeling on the floor and peering under the dresser proved he wasn't there either. So what was his wand pointing at?
"Because I'm the minister, that's why," the sleeping boy said suddenly and the intruder jumped at the sound, hitting his head on the dresser. He froze, afraid the noise would wake the boy but it didn't.
The man crept out of the room and whispered the spell again. His wand was pointing to the room next door. The man groaned and eyed the room warily. Carefully he put his hand on the knob to ease open the door. Immediately fat blue sparks of electricity shocked him onto the floor but he had still managed to get the door open far enough that he could shove it open without needing to touch the knob again.
In contrast to the other neat room, this one looked like a disaster area. Clothing was strewn across the floor along with might have been sticks and leaves from outside, a strange black singe mark decorated one wall. Whizzing above the dresser, miniature toy broomsticks chased each other. Across from that, one small redhead hung half off of the top bunk of the bed while the other had squirmed around until his feet were up on the pillow, the sheet half-heartedly covering one sprawled out arm. The intruder grinned and shook his head before looking more carefully for his target. Now where could the rat be?
"Squeak!"
His attention was drawn back to the toy broomsticks. And there, tied to the underside of a broom and looking rather green as he was rocketed to and fro, was one rather pathetic looking rat. The intruder's expression became a gleeful shark grin, an expression that seemed unthinkable normally but now seemed to fit his face with ease.
He stepped forward, focused only on his prey. And that was his final mistake.
There was a sudden deafening explosion, accompanied by a bright flash and thick clouds of smoke. An alarm started buzzing. Startled, the man made a dash for the rat, only to trip once again, this time over the piece of string that the twin Weasley menaces had strung across the floor. The young man managed to grab the toy broom and struggling rat in one hand before bashing his face against the dresser and sprawling flat out on the floor. He scrambled to his feet, fighting the twins' dirty laundry that had tangled up his arms and legs. He raced for the door and down the hall to the stairs before skidding to a halt in front of the wand of Arthur Weasley. He turned to race back the other way but now the children were coming out of their rooms. Before he could try to push past him he heard Arthur shout "Incarcerous" and he, once again, fell to the floor. It just really wasn't his night.
There was a big commotion as the children woke up enough to see the strange man lying in the hallway covered in bite marks, paint and dirt, a black sock clinging to shoulder tenaciously. A very pale Molly Weasley had to work quite hard to hustle them back off to bed.
"Molly, call Dumbledore." Arthur ordered as he levitated the tied-up captive down the stairs to the living room. The captive wriggled and tried to say something but some of the ropes had ended up over his mouth and nothing intelligible came out. A few seconds later a still-shaken Molly entered the room, followed by the headmaster of Hogwarts and leader of the Order of the Phoenix. While he looked wide awake and deadly serious, his cotton duck pajamas and grindlylow slippers proved that he too had been sleeping.
With a quick spell, the bindings slid from the intruder's mouth.
"Who sent you?" The headmaster's voice was strangely powerful for a man of his years.
The intruder's eyes were wide with the fear of having been caught. "I only came for the rat. I swear I wasn't here to hurt anyone." He could still feel the rat squirming between his hand and the ropes binding him.
"Who sent you?"
"No one! I came for the rat!"
Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows drew together, as he tried to figure out what that meant. "Who are you?"
"Look, Sirius Black in innocent. He never even got a trial. Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper! He's still alive!" The rat in his hand went still and then began wriggling more desperately.
"What's your name?"
The intruder shut his mouth firmly, refusing to tell.
The headmaster eyed the intruder critically and then turned back to Arthur Weasley, who still had his wand pointed at the prisoner. "Call the Longbottoms."
"Not Alastor?"
"He's still on duty."
Arthur nodded and left the room.
"It'll go better for you if you tell us the truth. Death Eaters are getting harsh sentences in Azkaban right now." Dumbledore threatened.
"I'd never be one of his!" The intruder spat, surprising the other.
"Then prove to us your good intentions."
"Peter Pettigrew is a rat animagus! He's been posing as Percy's pet rat. If you don't believe me, he's in my hand right now."
"That's a serious allegation, young man. How do I know you can be trusted while I untie your hands?"
"I don't know how to prove it to you!"
Frank Longbottom stepped into the room and did a double take. "You!" he exclaimed to the prisoner.
The prisoner groaned. "Why me?"
"You know this young man, Frank?" Dumbledore asked.
The auror nodded, "I don't know his name. He's the one that freed Alice and me." He turned to the prisoner. "Thank you."
Embarrassment crept into the prisoner's cheeks and he muttered what might have been an acknowledgement.
The headmaster clapped his hands together delightedly. "Well then, I think that means we can certainly untie you long enough to hear your story.
"Er…before you do, can you do something about Peter? He's currently trying to chew my finger off."
"Ah…right." The bindings slipped away from the prisoner's hands and the startled rat fell right into Dumbledore's waiting hand. "Stupify!" The rest of the bindings vanished and the former prisoner rubbed his wrists gently to restore circulation.
"Now, then. What's this about Peter Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked.
"Do the point me spell. Or revelio. Peter Pettigrew is a Death Eater and he sold out the Potters. Then he staged his death, framing Sirius Black."
Dumbledore turned to Frank. "Would you be so kind?"
"Right." Frank immediately cast the animagus reversing spell and immediately a pole-axed chubby man was lying on the floor rather than a fat rat. "Merlin's beard!"
Dumbledore said nothing. Only his eyes betrayed his profound sadness as he lifted up the loose sleeve to reveal the even more damning evidence against his former student. "Frank, you'd best take him to the ministry. There's no time to spare while Sirius is still in Azkaban."
The auror didn't spare any haste in carrying the still stupefied man out of the room. Dumbledore turned back to the young man. "How did you know?"
"Ah…er…" The young man looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Um…I'm a seer?" he finished weakly.
"Well, it seems you have saved more than a few lives in the past few days. And now that you're in no danger of reprisal from your rather…impetuous break-in, could you tell us your name?"
"A..Augustus."
"How ironic."
"How's that?"
"Augustus happens to be the middle name of someone I know…"
The young man laughed uneasily.
"Well, it is clear that you have strong moral fiber, my boy. How would you feel about meeting tomorrow to discuss how we might help you deal with these visions? You could come up to Hogwarts and meet some people who might be able to find slightly more…legal methods of dealing with this sort of situation."
An expression of sorrow flickered through Augustus' eyes. "Sometimes, headmaster, the legal aspect is the whole problem. But yes, I will come."
"Wonderful! Will you need directions? I can send someone to pick you up."
Augustus smiled and stood up. "I think I can find my way. I'll see you tomorrow Headmaster."
Author's Note: Any ideas who Augustus is? Any random thoughts on the story? Drop me a line and let me know.