Chapter 7: No Fighting in the Kitchen

Harry rolled his eyes and turned into a lion, as requested. Some of the students shrieked and jumped back, but they were the happy shrieks of kids playacting at fear. Katie Bell patted him, Fred Weasley turned a teacup into a mouse and loosed it in the floor, and George Weasley dangled string over his head.

He growled slightly to let them know what he thought of that, became himself again, and sat at the dining table. He and Hermione had come late for dinner, waiting till Dumbledore had explained things, and he had to eat quickly.

Angelica Johnson said, "You're a natural-born animagus? When did you first transform?"

"I think I was about nine."

"Lavender said you had cat eyes once."

Harry scratched his head. "Oh yeah. That. I wouldn't say cat eyes exactly. I was trying an illusionment charm, and it backfired weird. Wore off after an hour." He shrugged.

Next to him, Hermione was being pestered to demonstrate her incorporeal patronus, and was protesting that first-years weren't supposed do magic outside of class or the practice room.

An older girl said, "I checked, and the youngest student I could find managing the Patronus Charm was Dumbledore, as a second-year."

Hermione said, "They don't normally try teaching it to first-years. I'm sure lots more people would manage it if they did. And didn't Dumbledore make a corporeal Patronus his second year? That's much harder."

It went on like that, and an older Gryffindor named Oliver Wood asked Harry if he'd be the Gryffindor mascot at Quidditch games.

"You mean I'd turn into a lion, prance around the edge of the field, and roar when Gryffindor scored a point or whatever?"

"If you could also act sad when the other team scored? And we'll have to see about thickening your mane. Right now it looks like you've had a bad haircut."

Harry said, "Absolutely not."

"The mane?"

"Any of it. I'm not being a mascot."

The Quidditch captain kept on pleading, Harry kept on eating, and Draco Malfoy wandered to the Gryffindor table, his friends Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

"Weasley. I hear you cried in your mummy's arms."

Rather than flushing, Ron said, "If you'd been surrounded by the dementors you would've wanted your mum too."

"I wouldn't," said Malfoy.

Ron said, "Why, you don't get along with your mum? I'm not surprised. Anyone would hate you."

Color rose to Malfoy's cheeks. "I just wouldn't be afraid of the dementors."

"Of course not. You're used to having nothing but bad memories in your head." Ron stuck out his lower lip. "Poor little Draco. Gets a pile of gold when what he really wants is a hug."

Draco's face-twisted. "At least we have gold, you impoverished mudblood lover."

All the Gryffindors were watching, and Percy got to his feet. Harry used the chance to slip biscuits in his bag without anyone noticing. Had to replenish his supply after giving so much to the dog.

Draco continued, "You're dead Weasley. Midnight in the trophy room. A duel. Come or you're a c-" He froze as Shelby Blank's open palm flattened his hair.

"Three detentions Draco. The first for challenging another student to a duel." She pushed down on his head. "The second for using a word you know you shouldn't, and all the other insults." She pushed harder still, making Draco bend his knees. "The third for being thoughtless enough to do it all loudly in the middle of the great hall. Not very Slytherin of you." It was at the last charge that Draco really wilted.

Shelby continued, "And Ron Weasley, two detentions for swinging wildly with a tongue so sharp."

"But I-"

"No buts."

"You can't issue detentions."

"No back talk, or you'll get a third."

Ron opened his mouth for another retort, and Percy clapped a hand over it. "He'll be there. I assume McGonagall will sign the form?"

Shelby nodded.

Ron tried to talk through Percy's hand, Percy said, "Honestly Ron, grow an off button," and Shelby dropped Malfoy off at the Slytherin table as she went to the High Table, speaking to Snape and McGonagall in turn.

That was enough excitement to dampen the attention on Aitches, and the walk back to Gryffindor Tower was unremarkable.

It wasn't till Harry saw Mrs. Weasley in the common room that he realized he hadn't seen Lupin all day. "Is Mr. Lupin alright?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Poor dear. He's riding it out in the room inside his suitcase. It isn't safe to be around a powerful wizard like that when the Shakes come on strong. All the magic just shakes out."

"But he'll be alright?" said Harry.

"He'll come out in few days, worse for the wear but hardly endangered."

Hermione said, "Is he a very powerful wizard?"

"He's no Dumbledore, deary, but I wouldn't want to fight him."

Ron had slunk behind taller students when he'd seen his mother, and was making as wide a circuit around her as space permitted, maintaining maximum distance on his way to the first-year boys' room, picking his way through chairs and sofas.

Harry said, "So you'll be staying with us tonight?"

Ron froze.

Mrs. Weasley said, "It'll be pleasant, I haven't slept in Gryffindor dormitory in ages. Course, I always did sleep in the girls' half, up till my fifth year leastwise, but I expect it'll bring back the memories."

George, Fred, and Percy, who had been hanging back looking merely uncomfortable, turned bright red as other students giggled.

Harry didn't know know what was so funny.

Mrs. Weasley said to her sons, "Don't worry, I know at your age mothers are embarrassing just by existing. But haven't I given you space? You won't even notice my being here."

The boys nodded, and Mrs. Weasley swept Percy into a hug.

"School going well?"

"Sure."

"Being a prefect isn't too much pressure?"

"No."

She straightened Percy's collar. "And have you met any nice girls?"

Percy's jaw worked.

"Grades are the top priority, I wish Fred and George would understand that as well as you, but I do want grandchildren someday."

Percy closed his eyes and pinched his own cheek, as if hoping to wake up from a dream, and Mrs. Weasley hugged the twins.

"Doing well, George, Fred?"

"I'm Fred," said George.

"I'm George," said Fred.

"Whatever dearies, it's never made much difference. Just keep your noses clean. And have you met any nice girls? You're getting to that age."

"Loads of girls," said Fred.

"Half the student population I'd say," said George.

Fred said, "Seventy, eighty percent of them are nice."

George said, "Come on George. Closer to ninety, don't you think?"

"Especially that Rutabaga Sanders. Very nice."

"Never seen her so nice as the other day, when she was wearing the short muggle trousers."

"It's her politeness that does it," said Fred.

Mrs. Weasley said, "I hope she's tough, you two are a lot for one woman to handle."

The twins exchanged glances.

Fred said, "We were thinking more one girl each."

"Of course," said Mrs. Weasley. "Just letting you know you don't have to hide anything from me. I'm hip with it. I'll accept you for whoever you are. Takes all sorts to make the world go round, and there's two sides to every girl, I always say."

The twins turned pink, and Mrs. Weasley moved on.

To Harry's surprise, Mrs. Weasley hugged him and Hermione.

"And you two must be Harry and Hermione. Aitches. Ron mentioned you in his letter, and Percy says you're keeping him on the straight and narrow." Harry nodded, thinking that he was the one who'd proposed a prank to Ron, and Mrs. Weasley said, "I knew your parents you know, wonderful people. Early yet, but it looks like we might see a Potter marry a keen muggle-born girl for the second straight generation, wouldn't that be something?"

She patted their heads and scanned the room.

Harry understood enough of what she'd said for his cheeks to burn, and Hermione buried her face in her robe, scarlet ears poking up.

"Now where's my youngest son?" Her eyes alighted on Ron. "Bubbikins!"

Ron bolted up the stairs into the first-year boys' room.

Mrs. Weasley said, "A little shy to greet his mother at school, I expect," sat in one of the big chairs by the fire and began regaling Tricia and Damon with a story about the multiplication of her garden gnomes.

Hermione said, "I hope Mr. Lupin comes back soon."

"I thought you didn't like him."

"If you think about it, everything he says that's not nice is just to get us to work harder."

"I guess," said Harry. The students by Mrs. Weasley broke into shocked laughter, and Harry said, "She seems fun so long as she's talking to someone else."

#

#

The only other embarrassing thing Mrs. Weasley did that night was spend twenty minutes calling, "Here Scabbers, here rattie rattie rattie, Scabbers!" until the rat, skinnier than before, scampered out from between a pair of shoes. She fed it treats till it fell asleep on her lap, stomach bulging.

"Have you been properly feeding him?"

Ron said, "He found some place to hide and he's been missing a lot."

"Then you must not be feeding him regularly. He'll come for meals if he knows when they are, won't you poochi-poo?" She stroked the rat.

Ron nodded, though Harry knew Ron had been putting food out for Scabbers at the same time every night.

Ron said, "Harry, could you take a look at him?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Everyone sees you with your owl. And there was that with the raven. And you've got a spider in your hair."

Neville said, "He has a sp-spider in his hair?"

Ben said, "He's had it the whole year. Little thing. Hides in his clothes when he takes a bath."

Harry should've been upset at another secret so casually spilling out, but it was nice, actually, to think that they noticed stuff about him. "Mrs. Weasley, can I see Scabbers?"

It tried to run away when she handed it to him, but he got a firm hold and tilted it back, making eye contact.

He got the sense of rattiness, the expected desires for food and sleep, but he couldn't get a reaction or an image. It was like trying to grab something that seemed to be right in front of him but was actually distant, seen through tinted binoculars.

It turned its head aside, its little clawed feet beat against his palm, and it meeped.

Harry let it go and it ran to Mrs. Weasley.

"Well?" said Ron.

"I didn't get anything," said Harry. "Some animals are tougher than others. Sorry Ron." He shrugged, lay in bed and pulled the covers over himself.

It was just like the dog that probably wasn't Sirius Black.

#

#

Harry hurried through breakfast and said to Hermione and Ron, "I'm going to Hagrid's cottage to ask a question."

Ron took a pancake and two more slices of sausage strata. "Have fun."

Hermione said, "Is it important?"

"Probably not."

"I'll come."

They ran, knowing if they weren't quick they'd be late for Transfiguration, and Harry pounded on the wood door for most of a minute before concluding Hagrid definitely wasn't inside and looking elsewhere.

They found Hagrid cleaning blood and feathers out of a chicken house.

"Did something happen?" said Hermione.

"Summat got in an' killed all the roosters, but didn't eat them. But never yeh mind that. Harry, yeh're not supposed to come out here without an escort."

Harry said, "Just a quick question. How does it feel to use Charismancy on an animagus in animal form?"

Hagrid said, "Just like trying it on a human, only you'll be surprised when yeh fall into a thought and can hardly get out."

"Read my mind, just the top, I've got something show you." Not the story of the dog or the rat, just the isolated sense of distance and dimness he'd felt trying to enter the minds of both.

Hagrid met his eyes, and a moment later shook his head. "That's new. If the animagus was an occlumens, it should feel more like an animal. This is blunter than that. Puts me in mind of a disguise or obscurement charm. Yeh haven't run into any big black dogs, have yeh?"

"Peter Pettigrew was a rat, right?"

"Lupin tell you that?"

Harry nodded.

"I used to drag those boys out of the forest once a month. Peter was a rat."

Harry said, "Did their minds feel like that?"

"Nah. Just kids in animal bodies. Made it easy ter tell them apart from the real ones."

Then... if that were true, it didn't work.

Except Lupin had said that his parents had always been calling Peter and Sirius over during the war to make modifications to their animagus abilities.

"During the war, were Pettigrew and Black spies?"

"That's confidential."

"Hagrid, please."

The big man frowned. "Aye, they were spies, using their animagus forms to creep close and listen. Peter especially."

Harry nodded. It was all frothing in his head. For a moment the conclusion seemed close, like a word on the tip of tongue. That sense vanished as he reminded himself that Sirius had been his parents' Secret Keeper and had betrayed them to Voldemort.

They ran back to the school, Harry explaining on the way.

Hermione said, "You don't think... What do you think?"

"I don't have any ideas, but I feel like I should. Do you want to just skip Transfiguration?"

"No."

"You're right, that would draw attention."

"We also shouldn't skip class."

They took their seats next to Ron just as Professor McGonagall began calling roll and the class passed in a blur, the most notable part being Malfoy calling Ron "Bubbikins," Ron immediately replying, "DrakieSnakieLakie," Draco blurting, "Where did you hear that?" and Ron sticking his tongue out.

When they had a moment, Harry whispered, "How did you know to call him that?"

"Couple years ago my da' was at their house for his job, heard Draco's mum call him that, mentioned it to my mum when he was talking about his day, and I heard them." Ron tapped his head, "This thing works."

When class ended the other students left and Harry approached Professor McGonagall's desk, Hermione and Ron hanging back by the door. "Professor, is the Patronus of an animagus usually the same animal as the animagus form?"

"Often, Potter, but far from always." Her voice lowered. "No one will blink if your Patronus ends up being an owl, say, rather than a lion. But that's years away."

"Thanks Professor," he said, though that wasn't what he was thinking about at all. "See you tomorrow."

At the door, he hissed to Hermione, "One more point for nothing making sense. I swear that silver dog Patronus matched the black dog."

Ron said, "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on."

"I'm wondering whether or not Sirius Black really is trying to kill me."

"If you don't want to say, you don't have to be sarcastic," said Ron.

Harry shrugged. It being a free period, they went to the library and got a study room. Ron lectured the walls about Quidditch players while Harry and Hermione got on with mulling over everything, concluding that in all likelihood the dog was just a dog, the rat was just a rat, and the dog Patronus had been cast by a TA or upper-division student who hadn't seen any need to come forward and claim credit.

But that didn't sit right with either of them.

Hermione said, "Explain it to Ron."

"-Alston's pass rate is great, for sure-"

Harry said, "No, he's Ron. Captain Obvious and Captain Oblivious combined into one flesh."

"-Until she can learn to score, she shouldn't be-"

Hermione said, "And that's surprisingly useful."

"-defense is disruptive, but-"

Harry said, "Ron, you've been talking about Quidditch for half an hour and no one's listening, you're just talking to yourself."

"Yes, but I like company while I do it. I know what the plus-minus says about Alston's effect, but in the playoffs-"

Hermione said, "Ron, I have a question."

Harry said, "Hermione, no."

Hermione said, "Suppose that person S wants to kill person H, but when S met H and had a great opportunity to kill H, S helped H. Why would S do that?"

"Maybe S wants to get close to H to kill H properly, or S wants something else from H, or maybe S doesn't really want to kill H at all. How do we know S wants to kill H?"

"Because the Ministry says so."

"If the Ministry says so, why don't they capture S?"

"They'd like to. S is a fugitive."

Harry winced. Even Ron would realize this was about Sirius.

"What did S do to become a fugitive?"

"He was Secret Keeper to H's parents, but then he betrayed them."

"How does the ministry know he was the Secret Keeper?"

"Everyone knew he was the Secret Keeper."

"Everyone knew he was the Secret Keeper?" said Ron. "That doesn't sound very secret to me."

"Well, no." said Harry. "I should've thought of that."

Ron said, "The person that everyone knows is your Secret Keeper is almost the last person you'd want your Secret Keeper to be."

Hermione said, "That doesn't explain why S killed P."

"Who's P?"

"Another friend of H's parents."

Ron said, "Why wasn't he chosen as Secret Keeper?"

Harry said, "I don't know."

"If he was Secret Keeper, would we know? Are you sure S killed P?"

"There were over 20 witnesses."

"What did they see?"

Harry said, "They saw S meet P, P yelled at him, there was a big explosion, a lot of muggles died, and all anyone found of P was his finger. P had tracked down S since S had betrayed H's parents."

"Twenty witnesses saw two men face off, yelling at each other, then there was an explosion that left P's finger. P could've cut off his own finger and apparated away."

Harry said, "No, Black had cast anti-apparition spells over the area."

"Black! Who's Black?"

Harry said, "S. P can't have apparated because S had cast anti-apparition spells."

Ron said, "S cast them? Wasn't P the one who was trying to catch him?"

"S probably didn't want P to get away after he was found by him..."

Ron said, "Stealth spell of some kind. Invisibility cloak. Or by any chance, was P an animagus? Maybe something small?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a very long look.

Harry said, "He could turn into a rat."

"There you go then. H's parents made everyone think S was their Secret Keeper, but made P the real Secret Keeper, P betrayed them. S, who was the only person who knew that P was the real Secret Keeper, tried to kill P. Maybe P survived, maybe he didn't, but everyone blamed S for killing P and for betraying H's parents."

Hermione said, "But to spend 7 years living with a wizarding family pretending to be a rat? Why? So he could keep an eye on things?"

Harry said, "He'd have to be gibbering insane."

Hermione said, "A gibbering insane Dark Wizard hiding in the Gryffindor first-year boys' dormitory would explain a lot."

Ron said, "What are you talking about?"

Harry said, "We think Scabbers might be a Death Eater."

Ron said, "Seriously Harry, I've already said, don't be sarcastic, just tell me you don't want to tell me if there's something you don't want to tell me."

Hermione said, "We have to talk to Dumbledore."

"We'll miss History of Magic."

She waved that off. "I've already read the chapter. And this is important."

They stopped on the way and got a copy of the newspaper Sirius had seen in Azkaban. Scabbers was visible on Ron's shoulder, just as they'd remembered.

#

#

"What brings you three to my office when you ought to be in class?" said Dumbledore.

Harry said, "We know we're not really supposed to talk about the Sirius case."

Hermione said, "Or think about it."

"Or read about it."

"But we have a question."

Dumbledore sipped tea.

"When the unnamed Ministry official spoke to Sirius Black, did Black claim that he killed Peter Pettigrew because Peter Pettigrew was the Potters' true Secret Keeper?"

Dumbledore spit his tea out.

Hermione passed a handkerchief to Harry, who grinned as he wiped his face.

"Who have you two been talking to?"

"Ron Weasley," said Harry gesturing to the red-head.

Dumbledore said, "And he heard from his father?"

Harry cast a questioning glance at Hermione.

Hermione said, "Ron's father works for the ministry. But that's not it. We laid out the case for Ron, including a few things that confused us, and after talking it over, the possibility occurred to us. Not that Sirius claimed that, but that that was actually what happened."

Ron said, "What, when did we talk about Sirius Black?

Harry winced, and Hermione rubbed her temples. Harry said, "Just now. S is Sirius Black."

Ron gaped. "Then H is Harry? Who's P?"

Hermione said, "I don't get how your mind works, Ron. So smart, and then..."

Dumbledore said, "The thought that Sirius Black is innocent, and Pettigrew the villain, has given me sleepless nights. But I have always considered the possibility remote. I advised the Potters to choose Lupin or Black for Secret Keeper, as my trust of Pettigrew was imperfect, a recommendation I have regretted bitterly. And now you say my recommendation may have been right, but the Potters did not follow it as I had thought they had? What led you to this?"

"There's a lot," said Hermione.

Harry said, "But most of it amounts to nothing."

"Mostly bits of nothing I think you already know. They're why you've had sleepless night. But the one bit of nothing you might not already know is this." Hermione brought out the newspaper.

"You're really going to show him that?"

"Don't be embarrassed Harry, we have to show him, even if he'll laugh. The most important bit of nothing is this. This is the same edition of The Daily Prophet which seems to have triggered Sirius Black's escape, is it not?"

Dumbledore agreed.

"And the only piece of Peter Pettigrew recovered at the scene of his murder was one of his fingers. The right index finger, I believe."

"It was."

Hermione tapped the picture, tapped the rat on Ron's shoulder struggling to avoid the camera. "If you use a magnifying glass, you'll notice it's missing the second finger on its right paw."

#
#

The magnifying glass vanished when Dumbledore set it down.

Harry said, "I tried to read its mind, and I couldn't. It was just like trying to read the dog's."

"It would be."

"The only bit that doesn't make sense to me is why, if this is true, Sirius Black waited till he saw Pettigrew to escape. All the newspapers say Azkaban is hell. Why would he need extra motivation?"

Dumbledore said, "Azkaban's greatest safeguard is its dementors. After a few hours of exposure to their presence, most wizards can't do magic, and it takes longer to recover. But an animagus whose unusual form of animagery defeated the stripping potions could protect himself by turning to his animal form. With so many prisoners, the dementors wouldn't notice one blinking in and out. And if your parents gave him the gift of animal embodiment, he might be able to resist their effect even when appearing human."

Dumbledore continued, "If Sirius thus retained his powers, the walls and bars would be little obstacle. That much had already occurred to me. Only the charm barriers would be left to stop him escaping. The oldest and greatest of those are nearly impenetrable to those who believe themselves guilty, but are non-existent to those who believe themselves innocent. In the early days, before the walls, this was a problem. Among the guilty have always been those who thought themselves innocent, and among the innocent, those who thought themselves guilty. A relic now, but still powerful. Suppose Sirius believed himself to be guilty of killing Pettigrew in a crime of vengeance and vigilantism, and those old charms were all that contained him. Then he discovered that he was innocent of killing Pettigrew and those barriers ceased to exist for him. In that case, the newspaper is more than motivation. It's a key. Maybe."

Dumbledore took a mirror from his robes, tapped it with his wand, and said, "Shelby, Alastor, Molly, meet me by the entrance to the Gryffindor dorms. On the double." He tapped it again. "Pomona, send Fred and George Weasley to meet me outside the Gryffindor dorms. Right away."

Dumbledore strode out of his office, phoenix on his shoulder, the first-year trio hurrying to keep up.

Harry said, "Why do people even use owls if they have that?"

"Owls are secure."

"And why Fred and George?"

"They have something useful."

#

#

Two suits of armor had always flanked the portrait, and Harry had supposed them to be simply decoration. But they were shattered on the ground, and the painting of the fat lady between them had been cracked in half, a man-sized opening leading into the common room.

Harry stepped behind Dumbledore, who took the mirror out again. "Sybill, I need you at the Gryffindor dorms. Now. Sybill."

After a moment, Professor Trewalney's wavering voice emerged from the mirror.

"I'm in class."

"It's important. Tell them all about it next session." He tapped the mirror again. "Argus. The Fat Lady from Gryffindor dormitory has been attacked. Search every painting in the castle for her."

The Headmaster pocketed the mirror, and a cackling voice said, "You'll be lucky."

Without looking from the open passage, Dumbledore said, "What did you see, Peeves?"

The poltergeist bobbed in the corner, looking delighted. "She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscapes on the fourth floor, dodging between the trees."

"Did you see who did it?"

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, flipping over and grinning at Dumbledore through his legs. "He's got a nasty temper, that Sirius Black."

#

#

As Peeves words faded, Shelby ran up, huffing and puffing, Mrs. Weasley beside her, riding side-saddle on a small broomstick that transformed into a dark, pink-rimmed sunglasses the instant she set down.

She put the sunglasses in her hair and said, "Sirius Black?"

Dumbledore nodded. "How long, Peeves?"

The ghost twirled. "Left twenty minutes in the past, I'd guess."

Dumbledore said, "Still, we'll be cautious. If you should happen upon one who doesn't belong, don't hesitate, but don't kill. Stun. And Molly, keep an eye out for your rat. If you find it, bring it to me. It may be a Dark Wizard in disguise."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes flashed. "What has Sirius Black done to my rat?"

"Not Black. And I doubt anything has been done. It's just a possibility." Dumbledore stepped inside, Mrs. Weasley and Shelby coming right after, Harry, Hermione and Ron waiting a moment to follow.

A very pretty older girl lay unmoving on the common room floor, books and papers scattered in front of her.

Hermione said, "Is she dead?"

"Just stunned." Dumbledore twisted his wand, and the girl sat up, blinking at them.

"You're safe now," said Dumbledore.

"Black, I think it was Sirius Black, I've seen his picture, he-"

Harry moved on, ignoring the girl, headed toward his room till Shelby grabbed his shoulder.

A thunk behind him, and Harry whirled.

Mad-Eye Alastor Moody, who Harry hadn't yet spoken to, pushed the Weasley the twins through the portrait hole ahead of him. Moody said, "These two claim you called for them."

Dumbledore said, "Boys, give me the map."

"Map?" said George.

Fred said, "Map of Hogsmeade? All the third-years want one."

"Boys, if you do not hand me the Marauders' Map this instant I'll rethink my decision to let you have it."

"Oh, that map," said George, handing over a worn, smudged square of blank parchment.

"I solemnly swear I am up to much good," said Dumbledore, tapping it. Fred opened his mouth to say something, and stopped when lines of ink rose up, spreading across the page till it was a perfect little map of Hogwarts. In the Gryffindor common room, Harry saw the names of everyone who was in the common room.

The girl, he learned, was Rutabaga Sanders.

After a long look, Dumbledore handed the map to Fred. "Keep an eye on it. Look for Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew."

Moody said, "Pettigrew?!"

"Simply a possibility. Both are animagi, and may not appear on the map when transformed."

George said, "Animagi show on the map. We've checked."

"These particular animagi helped create the map."

The twins gaped, and the trio followed Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley into the first-year boys' room.

It was torn apart, mattresses, clothes and books strewn all around. Hedwig, perched on a bed poster, hooted anxiously when she saw him.

Hermione said, "I always imagined the boys' room being untidy, but this is a step beyond my expectations."

Harry laughed weakly. Untidy indeed. Everything in the mess signaled anger. "If he did this..."

Dumbledore said, "Think. If he were after you, why would he break into the dorm at a time when he knew the students would be gone? He was looking for something."

Mrs. Weasley began to call for Scabbers, taking a little bag of cat treats from her purse and shaking it.

Scabbers didn't come. Dumbledore cast a few spells to try and find the rat, said, "He's not in this room," and returned to the common room, satisfied Harry's room was safe.

Harry sat on the stripped frame of his bed. Supposing that Sirius really was a good guy, and Scabbers really was Pettigrew, this was horrible luck. Pettigrew would go to ground, and with his abilities as a spy be tough to find.

Hedwig fluttered down from the bed poster and landed in his lap. He stared in her eyes and saw her memories of Sirius Black coming in. Long dirty hair, pale, gaunt cheeks, tearing through their belongings with wand and hand, but slowing when he reached the covered stand that Hedwig slept in during the day, lifting up the black curtains and shooing the owl out before searching inside.

"Ron, do you have anything that smells like Scabbers?"

Ron fished through the mess and tossed Harry a folded square of felt. "That's his bed."

Harry's nose lengthened, enlarged, lionized. He put the square of felt to his nose and breathed in deeply, catching the scent.

His voice rumbled. "Hermione, get every owl and cat in Gryffindor dorm out in the common room."

An instant of confusion followed by a wide smile. Hermione skipped out.

Harry tossed Hedwig outside. She already knew.

Seamus had an owl, and Ben had a cat, both hiding in the closet. Eye contact, and they followed him to the common room. A few more students had come in, dropping stuff off before lunch, standing around asking Rutabaga what had happened, and Dumbledore and Moody had both left.

It started as just the sort of imitation meow any human might make, and changed halfway through into a full-throated yowl that made the other Gryffindors jump. Two dozen cats ran into the common room as Hermione ran around making sure doors were open.

Harry hooted, and owls flew in, some of the freshly arrived students screaming at the way animals had gone mad.

To the cats, the look and the scent. To the noseless owls, just the look. To both, a certain something that was purely sense.

Fred said, "Harry, what's happened to your face?"

Harry hopped out the portrait door, calling back, "Didn't Dumbledore tell you he's looking for a rat?" and all the animals rushed out after him, then past him, spilling into the corridors, their one goal to find the rat he'd taught them of.

Shelby jumped out the portrait hole after, gasping as she got a better look at him. "Potions accident?" she said.

"No." He made eye contact with more cats. A moment later, those cats were running.

He hooted.

"You just changed again."

More cats, more owls, how many were in Hogwarts exactly? Between one step and the next he transformed into a lion.
Harry took a deep snuffle, smelled traces of Scabbers all over, and tried to pick out the freshest. The cats and owls should be more focused on forming a perimeter than on catching the rat, though they wouldn't think of it as a perimeter.

He was sniffing a little cleft in the side of bottom of a wall when he heard, very distantly, a yowl.

It was quiet even to Harry's lion ears, but somehow Hermione knew to leap on his back and grab fistfuls of mane as his muscles bunched. They took off, leaving the others in their dust.

Down the hall, hard left, up some stairs, leap to the landing, streak through another another corridor, the yowling of cats getting louder and louder.

They slid into a kitchen, house-elves staring, cats skittering aside.

A grey rat dashed around inside of a circle of cats. Whenever it tried to get through, a cat hit it with velveted paws

Hermione leveled her wand at it, and Harry felt nervous. If they were right, this was a potentially dangerous wizard. If they were wrong, they were torturing Ron's pet rat.

The largest cat dropped its paw on the rat. Harry thought about interfering to save the rat...

A pop, and the cats leapt back as the rat turned into a portly man.

Harry roared as Hermione yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!"

A wand flickered in the man's hand, and Harry and Hermione froze.

"Damn it all," said the man, standing up.

Harry's eyes moved, but that was all. Their spell had been turned back on them. He felt sure he could break it if he could just roar, but he couldn't.

"What to do with you two?" Peter Pettigrew leveled his wand at them.

"No." The word had the force of a spell, and the wand flew from Pettigrew's hand.

Pettigrew pressed his back against a counter, going cross-eyed as he shrunk from the long index finger a small house-elf was brandishing like a wand.

"You know the rules. No fighting in the kitchen," said the house-elf, and pointed to the door. "Out, both of you. The big kitty can stay. Big kitty."

One of the other house-elves stroked his head, said, "Frozen," snapped its fingers, and the roar Harry had been attempting burst out, the loudest he'd ever made, shaking tables, Pettigrew's sparse hair flying back.

From the house-elves, applause and gleeful shouts of "big kitty!"

Pettigrew gathered himself enough to run for the door, and Harry hesitated, unwilling to pounce with Hermione still petrified on his back.

"Stupefy." Pettigrew collapsed, landing at the feet of a dark cloaked figure standing just outside out the doorway. An array of index fingers and snap-ready hands swiveled pointed at the dark figure, who held his wand ready.

"No fighting in the kitchen."

"I'm not in the bloody kitchen," said Severus Snape.

:::

Yo: This was my favorite chapter to write. Don't know how it was to read. I thought of my Molly Weasley as something like a cross between the canon version and Discworld's Nanny Ogg. And gosh Ron's stupid, in his way. Bit of a self-insert, honestly.

Thanks to Flashx11 for proofreading.

I nearly ended the chapter with Pettigrew leveling his wand at the Petrified Aitches, but decided that was too much of a cliffhanger.

If you're enjoying this, do me a favor and buy yourself a candy bar; that's about what Monstrosity costs. Go to Amazon, select the department 'Books', type in Monstrosity, and select the one by JLL. (L, J L) It's about a boy who, confronted by vampires, tells bedtime stories to a tree and bashes heads in with a baseball bat.

From looking at my Amazon author page, I'm guessing a few of you have already gotten my book. Thank you so much. It means a lot. I love you all. Reminder that struggling/aspiring authors love amazon reviews: they bump us up in the algorithms, creating some chance of 'catching fire' if the book is good.

I know in a general sense how things in this story will go (in a more general sense, you probably do too) but if I don't work out the particulars before publishing the next update things may go pear-shaped, so it may be a bit till the next update, which may or may not include a crowd of buck naked House Elves assaulting a laundromat.

Doing finger exercises so I don't get carpal tunnel,

-Rando Dude Who's Typing This Thing