The dark-haired teen strode with a slight bounce as he traversed the narrow road beyond the fourth-floor mirror, which he'd repaired in his spare time with the addition of outside house elves and independent contractors with a small fee for discretion. A sandy-haired teen and a short-haired red headed girl slowly followed, their faces twisted with confusion and not a little exasperation as they struggled to keep up.
"So, Harry, you never told us who this 'old friend' of yours is anyway," Ernie remarked, his face creased with rising suspicion as he peered closely at his friend's suspiciously blank expression.
"Yeah, when you told us about a dare you had planned, I figure'd it was something fun like bringing in Firewhisker or something, not walking to an abandoned house or something," Susan chimed in, stopping to rub her feet, radiating mild distaste at the unexpected workout.
"I'd never betray my fellow Hufflepuffs," Harry cried, placing a hand to his heart in mock affront. Seizing open the door of the Shrieking Shack with a muttered "Alohomora!" Harry pulled open the door to the once plain but grand foyer, gesturing with a finger to his lips as the three crept past the door to the interior of the house at large.
They cautiously made their way up the wide, dusty staircase, floorboards groaning with every step. They halted before the third door on the right of the second floor, Harry ushering his friends through, taking a deep breath to compose himself. Just as he reached for the doorknob, a firm hand gripped his arm and shoulder, spinning him around. Harry started into the face of Ron Weasley, his teeth gritted and jaw set with fury.
"Ron, mate!" Harry said, his eyes projecting a sense of casual confidence to shield his panic. "What a surprise, I was just going to this great underground party I heard about, I'd have invited you, but …"
"Shut up!" the red head barked, clutching a worn piece of spare parchment. "Fred and George loaned me this map when I'd found my rat missing during a chess tournament," he added, gripping the artifact with more care than Harry had ever seen, save perhaps the willow and unicorn hair wand pointing at his sternum. "Cost me fifteen sickles," he continued, wand lowering slightly with an edge in his voice.
Harry took advantage of Ron's distraction to grip his arm and throw him to the room, wand falling as he threw his arms out to protect his fall. The boy who lived sent Ron into the room with a low-powered "Depulso!" the carefully powered down spell sending him flying a half-dozen spaces into the room, where Ernie and Susan already stood wandless, their faces set with astonished betrayal.
"Greetings, Black," Harry said with a small smile, offering his wand handle-first to the disheveled convict, currently screaming about killing a rat as the boy's pocket quivered. "I hated you at first, you know," Harry admitted with a small pang that he'd misunderstood Black so completely in his last life. "But then I did some research into my parent's deaths and your capture," he continued, voice rising as he revealed in the explanation, pointing a finger for emphasis, "and I wondered how a spell kills a dozen but leaves a finger intact." As the other three students shouted and demanded an explanation, Harry raised a shaking hand for silence, "then I remembered that Ron here," he gestured to the red head with a slight wave, now muttering about his ex-best mate going 'completely barmy,' "had a garden rat for thirteen years." He pulled out the rat with firm fingers, the squealing traitor treading air as it struggled to escape. "I want to hear it from Pettigrew, if he is a rat!" Harry interjected hastily as Black lifted his borrowed wand, a green light glowing at his tip.
Black frowned but obliged, throwing the rat to the floor as he sent a jet of blue light at the rat.
The rat twisted as it enlarged and grew limbs, turning into a hunched over gray-haired man with wild eyes and an overbite.
"Hello, Peter," Black spat, voice colder than any dementor. As Pettigrew stammered and denied everything, Black explained in a trembling voice how the Potters were instructed to go into hiding, how he thought that with himself in hiding his best friend and godson would be safe, how Peter turned them in when he became secret keeper.
"Your mental," the red-faced Weasley blurted the moment he had his wand returned to him, gazing on the silent room with wild eyes, still refusing to believe his senses. "I don't know who this is," he pointed to the ex-pet with contempt and disgust, "but everyone knows you're the bloody secret keeper …"
"Scourgify!" Black barked, his voice rising. As Ron gagged on pink soap bubbles, Harry clearing Ron's airway. He continued, "They didn't see what they thought they saw!"
Harry closed his eyes as Black unknowingly spoke the code phrase. A woman with gold glasses, a long dark green dress and silver jewelry entered, flanked by a blond man with wire spectacles and a wizened woman with a hairlip entered.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, we heard everything in this stunning tale," Rita Skeeter purred, face creased in a sharp smile. "Any comments on this revelation?" she raised her eyebrows as a green quill hovered over the notepad, scratching pointed phrases.
"You betrayed me!" Black screamed, shifting his wand to point at Harry. As the boy shoved his friends to the floor the wall behind them exploded as the reporters also dove for cover.
Harry blinked his eyes and coughed as dust and rubble rained on the stunned group, stunning the rat just as he scrambled for the now gaping wall.
The boy slowly walked to the edge, dreading what he would find. A small depression in the mud marked the convict's small, though no body was present. A trail of footprints pointed south. Sirius was gone.