CHAPTER 13:

OPERATION: RAT IN A CAGE

It had been McGonagall who had finally confirmed (using some discreet spellwork) what everyone in the know had suspected for a long time: Scabbers, Ron's rat, was definitely an Animagus. The circumstantial evidence was now great, and so, it was decided to make a move as soon as possible, once Amelia Bones had been contacted.

The big question was, how to get the rat? And how to make sure that he didn't escape? Harry didn't know that another factor was involved: as Voldemort or one of his agents was at Hogwarts, they would also need to keep it as secret as possible.

It was Jenova who decided that Fred and George Weasley would be recruited. For all their tendency to pull pranks, their hearts were in the right place, and even better, they knew Occlumency. And they had taken Scabbers from Ron and Percy before to do tricks. After some debate, it was agreed to bring the two in.

They understood the need for discretion swiftly. After all, it wasn't every day you caught someone who may have been a Death Eater. Not to mention the material for teasing Ron and Percy about sleeping in the same bed as an older man for so long.

Operation: Rat in a Cage went off more or less swimmingly on the night of Harry and Draco's duel. Harry played his part, distracting Ron with a chess game in the common room in Gryffindor Tower. Harry was not that great at chess. He was a bit better at Go, a game Yuffie had played with him(1). The twins, meanwhile, managed to snatch Scabbers and take him away, sending him to sleep. Ron didn't notice Scabbers was gone until after he had beaten Harry again. Harry had to admit, Ron had a good mind when he applied it.

Ron realised Scabbers was gone, and looked around. As he began to fret, Harry closed his eyes, and tried speaking mentally to Jenova. Jenova, can you hear me?

Loud and clear, Harry. Has Ron noticed?

Yeah. How's it going up there?

A malevolent chuckle echoed through their connection. Operation: Rat in a Cage is all but over. Let's just say that I like this Amelia Bones woman. She's almost as formidable as I am. And Pettigrew is pissing his pants. He's begging for his life, claiming Sirius did it, but Bones has said something about Veritaserum and…damn! Oh no you don't, you little shit! Gotcha! Sorry, little bastard managed to overcome the Animagus reversal spell. But he's not going anywhere. I've given him to some guy called Shacklebolt, who has a nice little cage for our rat.

So, do I tell Ron?

Yeah. Go ahead.

"Ron…I need to talk to you about something…in private," he added.

"But Scabbers is gone. He could be anywhere!" Ron wailed.

"Ron…it's about Scabbers. I need to tell you on the quiet…"

It took some time to explain it to Ron in the dorm (thankfully, with nobody else present). He was, after all, understandably upset about not being kept in the loop. "But why didn't you tell me?" he demanded. "I thought we were friends!"

"Of course we are, Ron!" Harry replied. "But think about it: if you knew Scabbers was Pettigrew beforehand, if we told you before we were ready, you might've treated him differently, and he might have scurried off because he smelt a rat! Well, one that wasn't him, anyway. It's how he managed it in the first place when he framed Sirius."

Ron, rather moodily, subsided. Then, a rather stricken look came over his face. "Oh, bloody hell," he swore.

"What?"

"I've had him in bed with me!" he said, making a retching noise of understandable disgust. "I might need to Obliviate myself!"

"It could have been worse," Harry said.

"How?!" Ron demanded.

"It could have been Voldemort," Harry laughed, only to have Ron throw a book at him.

"That's not funny!" Ron snarled.

Jenova was enjoying herself immensely, giving a shark-like grin to the rat cowering in the cage she was holding. Well, being a rat suits you, Pettigrew, she thought. Well, that'd be an insult to rats. Rats may be carriers of illnesses, but for all their bad reputation, they're at least intelligent and not malicious. But you…you betrayed your friends. Sent one off to Azkaban, and the other, along with his wife, to the grave. I wonder, did you do it out of cowardice, or because you were malicious? Maybe you thought Voldemort could make you great. Well, I wouldn't call staying with the same family for the best part of a decade, masquerading as a pet, greatness. How you got into Gryffindor, I've no idea.

She handed the cage back to the black wizard she had taken it from. Kingsley Shacklebolt took the cage. "You're finished?"

"With him? Not by a long shot," Jenova said. "I'm tempted to show him a hell that would make the Cruciatus spell look like heaven. As it is, if you do sentence him to the Dementor's Kiss, I want to watch it happen."

"You're a strange one," said another Auror, a grizzled, scarred lump of a man with a false leg and a magical false eyeball that seemed perpetually on the move, and whose scrutiny Jenova found somewhat uncomfortable. "I don't like you, Calamitas."

"How hurtful. But perceptive. And refreshingly honest, Mr…?"

"Moody," the man said.

"Moody…well, you can rest assured, Mr Moody, that I am a danger only to my enemies, and that list is a thankfully short one, with none of those present on it…save for Pettigrew, of course." She gave a winning, if somewhat predatory smile that she knew would not reassure the scarred man one bit.

"Alastor," Dumbledore said, "Professor Calamitas has proven herself worthy of my trust, as has Miss Gainsborough."

Amelia Bones, a stern-looking woman with a monocle, nodded. The current head of the DMLE was considered to be one of the best heads of the department ever, being able to balance intelligence, fairness, and discipline. "Strange that you had intelligence of this, though. Does this have anything to do with the anonymous Pensieve memories I have been receiving? Memories that appear to be from the possibly-to-be-exonerated fugitive Sirius Black?"

"Madame Bones, as a character in a Muggle TV series once said, 'You might think that, I couldn't possibly comment'(2)."

Bones raised an eyebrow. She very nearly reminded Dumbledore that harbouring a fugitive could very well lead to a sentence in Azkaban, but decided not to. Between Pettigrew and the Pensieve memories received from Sirius, it looked like Black could potentially be exonerated. Her mind was now currently trying to think about how to sell this to Fudge. Perhaps she could get Fudge to see this as the current Minister for Magic overturning the mistakes of his predecessor. He would love the political capital that could be made from that.

Of course, this was counting one's chickens before they hatched. They needed to get Pettigrew secure, interrogate him with Veritaserum (Dumbledore had offered some of Snape's personal stock, but she declined politely, pointing out that she needed accountability, especially in such a delicate matter, and couldn't risk tampered Veritaserum), and then have him put on trial in the Wizengamot. Then, they needed to find Sirius, who had disappeared from Azkaban.

"We will discuss this later," Bones said. "Moody, Shacklebolt, let's go. Goodbye, Dumbledore, Professors." Her eyes flickered over to Aerith, whom she had learned was Harry's current guardian, and she nodded politely. "Miss Gainsborough." And with that, the head of the DMLE, her two Aurors as escort, and their prisoner left through the Floo.

"Charming fellow, that Moody," Jenova remarked, albeit with an amused smirk on her face.

"He's one of the most famous Aurors in the DMLE," Dumbledore said. "Somewhat paranoid, though I believe a popular Muggle saying is that paranoia is when they're not out to get you. He made many enemies of Death Eaters, hence the injuries. He was also one of the most trusted members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"The anti-Voldemort resistance movement you told us about," Aerith murmured thoughtfully.

"Indeed. He often shouts about constant vigilance. Perhaps I could arrange a meeting once this is over. He is an interesting man despite his quirks, and a font of knowledge about Death Eaters and their tactics. And a skilled combatant. Unless he had offended you."

Jenova chuckled. "Dumbledore, I fought alongside some pretty strange people against my own son. He reminds me a little of Cid, actually, just with less swearing and fewer body-parts of his own. If I took offence at everyone who took offence with me, I'd be leaving a pretty long trail of bodies behind me."

"At least they will take precautions regarding his Animagus form," McGonagall said, pursing her lips. "Pettigrew's, I mean. To think, he was alive and well this whole time…and the real traitor."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Those were darker times, and our concerns and preconceptions clouded our senses. I could have arranged for a trial, for Veritaserum to be administered to Sirius, but I really did think he was the traitor. Then again, a Secret Keeper wouldn't make themselves so conspicuous." He put his head in his hands, and murmured, "Another mistake to add to the litany."

"It's not what mistakes we make, Albus," McGonagall said quietly, "but what we do to remedy them. Your words, if I recall."

Dumbledore nodded, slowly, but as he straightened, he looked every second of his age. His eyes had lost their twinkle, and only a soothing trill from Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix companion, seemed to restore any of that. Aerith moved over to the magnificent, regal bird. Dumbledore noted that while Fawkes was often wary (understandably) of Jenova, he was quite accepting of Aerith. There was a purity in the young woman few could match. Although there was an impish sense of humour that reminded Dumbledore of himself. Or Ariana, before the traumatic attack by the Muggles.

Dumbledore plucked a sherbert lemon from his bowl and put one in his mouth pensively. Even now, he clung to vestiges of the philosophy that he and Grindlewald had hit on, 'for the Greater Good'. He had hoped that he had gotten himself out of that extreme utilitarianism, but his actions with Harry only showed that that philosophy had merely mutated. Not that utilitarianism was necessarily bad, mind. But it was how one applied it.

They look up to me as the leader of the Light, Dumbledore thought quietly. But I've been playing chess with their lives. Taking due care not to sacrifice any pieces if I could…but I fear I may have been too detached at times. Too fixated on the ends, and not thinking enough about the means. And stopping Voldemort will not stop all dark lords from rising, now and forever. And Harry…he is uncomfortable with being a figurehead, a symbol to the Light. It is better than indulging in his fame, true, but…I wonder…what do I do? What can we do?

No. Focus on stopping Voldemort. Once we do that, then we can worry about everything else.

In his dreams that night, Harry dreamt of Luna. Except it wasn't a dream. It was like the times that he met Jenova within his own mind, and the landscape of the Lifestream. It felt too real.

They were on the edge of the Great Northern Crater, sitting on the rim, watching the green fountains of Mako Energy spraying high into the air. It was eerie, and beautiful. When Harry became aware that he was here, and Luna was sitting next to him, he leapt up, startled, but was prevented from tumbling down the slope of the crater by Luna. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I came to help. We are linked through the Jenova cells within us, and I sensed your distress from home. The Blibbering Humdingers are getting to you," the girl said. She was looking like Sephiroth again, pale skin, silver hair, and the slitted eyes, albeit of blue rather than the cold sea-green of the infamous swordsman. Strangely, a single, large silvery wing protruded from her back.

"No, just my fame," Harry said.

"Fame is like an infestation of Blibbering Humdingers. People look at you differently when you have an infestation," she said. "Or when they think you're mad. But sometimes, madness is just another perspective. Everyone has a different perspective on a single person. Take my mother, and your guardian. Jenova…in the legends of the Cetra, both on the world she landed, and this one, she is considered a monster, an evil entity capable of nothing but destruction. To Sephiroth, initially, she was a mother, until she became little more than a tool and a slave in his eyes. To me, she is like a long-lost mother I had long wanted to meet. To you…what is she?"

Harry thought about it. It wasn't like he hadn't before. Eventually, he said, "Maybe like an aunt now…a bit crazy, though, but my actual aunt…she hated me. If I used the words I want to use, Aerith would berate me for talking like Cid or Barrett, though I think she would agree with me. But Jenova…she's a bit crazy, but…I trust her to watch my back. I think Aerith does so too, even though Jenova decimated the Cetra. But what we saw in her memories…even Jenova didn't remember."

"To be once the goddess and guardian of an entire world…and then to become the demon of another. That is…tragic," Luna said, looking at the Crater with sad eyes. "To fall so far. Even Sephiroth or Voldemort didn't fall so far. She will probably spend the rest of her long, long life atoning for what she did. But at least she wants to atone. Few would know that, or care. But think about yourself, Harry. Think of how others view you. Most see only the Boy Who Lived. A few know something of the real you."

"Do you?" Harry asked. "I mean, you're inside my head. And this comes from my memories."

"It actually comes from Jenova's memories, though they are yours, as she was in your head at the time," Luna said quietly. "Fame is a double-edged sword. The question is, how you use it. Many will expect you to face Voldemort, to be the one destined to face him."

"There was the prophecy Minerva told me about," Harry said. He remembered what Minerva had told him, when he had come to the Planet long ago, and recited the verse to Luna.

Luna nodded. "But Voldemort could have ignored it. Or he could have taken you and turned you to his own devices. Instead, he thought that by killing you, he could outright defy the prophecy, when in fact, thanks to your parents, he ended up fulfilling part of it. And he won't ever stop. After all, you are the only one who managed to defeat him outright. Even going to the Planet may not be enough to stop him. Minerva may not be able to stop someone determined to enter the Planet. Or leave it through the Goddess' Gate."

"Like Sephiroth," Harry realised with a shudder.

"Exactly. The wizards and witches of this world are powerful, but few would have even a remote chance against Sephiroth," Luna said. "But I've wandered from my point. My point is, while you shouldn't have to face Voldemort, you are more than capable of doing so, even now. But you shouldn't do so alone. Don't hide or run from your fame, but don't exploit it until you need to. Gilderoy Lockhart uses it like a bludgeon. Use yours like a scalpel."

Harry blinked. "Wait, who's Gilderoy Lockhart?"

Luna chuckled. "A so-called monster hunter with an inflated reputation, a big ego, and bleached teeth. He has a bad case of the Wrackspurts, and he doesn't think Crumple-Horned Snorcacks exist. But we're looking for the evidence, Daddy and I."

"Well, that's good," Harry said. Despite her eccentricities, and the fact that she was a Jenova being (he didn't want to call her a creature), there was something endearing about her. Then again, even back on the Planet, back home, he knew some strange types. Hell, one of his best friends was an extremely erudite mountain lion! Then there was the kunoichi princess, and the immortal shapeshifter…Luna, by comparison, wasn't so strange.

"One day," Luna said, looking at the Crater, "I hope to see this sight with my own eyes, and more. Perhaps Daddy might want to come."

"Will Minerva let you come through?"

"I may," said Minerva, seemingly appearing, as if she was always there, next to Luna. The goddess looked at Luna, with a smile. "I have…become a bit more judicious when it comes to Jenova's ilk. Without her help, we may never have stopped Sephiroth. And I sense the purity in you, Luna Lovegood. A shame Jenova shares not your purity and gentle nature." Minerva looked over at the Crater. "I have to wonder…if the time ever came for me to use the Omega Sanction…would I end up like her?"

"Well, aren't you the all-knowing goddess?" Luna asked cheekily.

Harry winced at Luna's impertinence (though to be honest, he had toed the line himself in previous conversations with Minerva more than once), but Minerva chuckled. "I am a goddess, true, but I am neither omnipotent nor omniscient. I am close, but there are many questions even I know not the answer to. And I cannot do everything, or else I would have been able to stop Sephiroth alone." Minerva turned to Harry, her face now solemn. "Harry, beware. Through you, I sense the foul presence that had once resided in your scar. What is left of Voldemort stalks the halls of Hogwarts. Remember your mother's protection, but also remember that while Voldemort is nowhere near the level of Sephiroth, he is still a danger to you."

Harry paled, but nodded. "Thank you for your warning, Minerva."

The dream went on a bit more pleasantly than that, with Harry, Minerva, and Luna speaking like old friends. A goddess, a Jenova hybrid, and the Boy Who Lived. A strange trio to be friends, but then again, stranger had happened.

Meanwhile, in his prison of Quirrell's flesh, Voldemort thought. He had witnessed, through Quirrell's eyes, Harry's duel with that son of the cowardly Malfoy. The spells he had used were too advanced for the boy, and yet, he had performed them, and using what had seemed to be mere baubles, crystalline orbs set in a bracer.

The boy had held back from vanquishing Malfoy, despite the obvious advantage. This was demonstrated even more when that powerful fire spell destroyed the snake. A fool of a boy, but Voldemort had noticed that the boy during the fight had the intensity of a warrior who had already fought many battles.

He needed more information. And perhaps he could find a way to take that power for himself. After all, power did not deserve to be left with those too weak to seek it…or keep it.

CHAPTER 13 ANNOTATIONS:

Pettigrew has been captured, Harry has a heart-to-heart with Luna and Minerva, and Voldemort covets the Materia. Good times all around.

1. I'd be willing to bet that the Planet has Go as well as chess. Go is a game of strategy like chess, but is both deceptively more simple and yet far more complex in many ways. Go look it up if you're unfamiliar. I'm sure Ron would take to Go like a duck to water.

2. Dumbledore is using the catchphrase of Francis Urquhart from the first TV adaptation of House of Cards, as spoken famously by Ian Richardson (the first miniseries was transmitted in late 1990, about a year before these events: maybe Dumbledore caught an episode on TV). I don't know whether his American equivalent says anything similar in the latest adaptation of House of Cards.

No soundtrack suggestions this chapter.