Matou Shinji and the Heirs of Slytherin
A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story
Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.
Summary: Trouble is brewing in the Wizarding World. In the wake of the Stone Incident, Albus Dumbledore has begun quietly preparing Britain to survive the coming war. The Stone Cutters, a new organization at Hogwarts for the most talented and distinguished of students, seek new blood to bolster its strength. The Boy-Who-Lived seeks his destiny as the Heir of Slytherin. And a boy from the east meets a specter of the past.
Chapter 15. Appearances and Apparitions
As the Ravenclaws filed into the Defense classroom on the first lesson after Halloween, the students couldn't help but notice that there was a wardrobe in the corner of the room, and that Mad-Eye Moody was glowering at them, almost daring them to ask him about the Weasley Incident. Given that he was an Auror and knew the value of controlling information during an ongoing investigation, he was…quite unhappy about the rumors that were spreading. Some – such as the rumors which stated that Ronald Weasley had driven off Sirius Black in a display of magical might – were patently ridiculous, given the disparity in power between a second year student and a fully trained Dark Wizard – even one who was weakened from a decade-long imprisonment in Azkaban. Others, like the fact that Black had not been after Potter had led to accusations that the Heir of Slytherin was in league with the man who betrayed his parents to You-Know-Who and had let him into the castle.
This conclusion was also absurd, especially given that he and his staff knew exactly where Potter had been that fateful night, but the students didn't care. After all, such a thing resonated with the assumptions and prejudices that were deeply seated in the group consciousness of Hogwarts, where Gryffindor was the house of the brave, while Slytherins were slimy, slippery fellows, who were only a moment of opportunity away from turning Dark.
Moody, of course, knew this to be utter hogwash, given that those who became Dark Wizards could come from any of the houses – with Huffflepuff, not Gryffindor, giving rise to the fewest – but knew the power of assumptions and irrational fears.
After all, part of his mystique among the criminal elements was the fact that fear was his ally, that they believed him to be a monster beyond compare – and that their only hope of survival was to throw themselves upon his mercy. Sometimes, it helped. At others, it inspired foes who had already begun putting up resistance to fight to the death, as they feared death less than they did Azkaban and his tender mercies.
Though at least his reputation was good for making the students sit quietly as they watched him, wondering what he would do – what he would say – about the incident that had transpired.
In a word, nothing.
His tenure as Defense Professor did not revolve around keeping them informed of what was going on in the school, but on teaching them the basics of how to protect themselves. Not that he thought what he taught them would be enough to stand off a truly determined Dark Wizard, but then, he wasn't trying to train them into Aurors who could match a Dark Wizard spell for spell.
"I understand my predecessor put great stock in the value of fear as the most dangerous enemy any of you could face," he said gruffly, his magical eye roving over the audience and finding that none were distracted. "And he was right. To be paralyzed by fear is to give others power over you, to surrender before you have even begun to see what you can do. But fear is not just something used by the Dark. It is a weapon I will teach you how to use as well."
He paused, stumping around the classroom as he noted the expressions on his pupils' faces, some confused, some intrigued.
"You probably wonder why I haven't taught you any spells yet. Well, Defense is about more than knowing powerful spells or how to drive off Dark Creatures. I will cover those, of course, but the lessons I have covered so far – the basics of how you hold your wand, how to carry yourself, the speed with which you react – and how you react – to the unexpected or the frightening, are just as important. All these leave an impression in an opponent's mind, one that can spell the difference between life and death."
Moody smiled grimly, his mouth a slash of white against the craggy mass of scars that was his face.
"For Dark Wizards, like you, can know fear. And even the most determined, most foul wizard there is, can hesitate when the face something they do not expect. Their minds will tell them that a student couldn't possibly pose a threat to them, but their instincts may give them pause if you carry yourself with steadiness and grim resolve. And in that pause…you strike."
The room was utterly silent, with the Auror thinking that perhaps children weren't as hard to manage as he'd imagined. Among the students, Matou seemed to be quite focused, the boy not even flinching from his gaze, while the others were more uncertain. A harsh chuckle escaped his lips then, as he considered that the boy had indeed faced a Dark Wizard before.
"Or, more likely, you escape," Moody said quietly. "Even that is victory when confronted with someone far more powerful. Do you understand me?"
The students nodded solemnly, one after another until what he could see was a sea of bobbing heads.
"Right then. But before you can do any of this, you have learn how to master your own fears, especially those don't admit to anyone – even yourself. The secret fears hidden away inside you, the things that terrify you more than words can say. And so, to help with that, I have wrangled a Boggart for today's lesson."
As if on cue, the wardrobe in the corner wobbled, as if whatever was inside was trying to escape.
"Now, who can tell me what a Boggart is?" he asked with a grim half-smile. To his utter lack of surprise, a number of people raised their hands. "Yes, Miss Granger."
"A Boggart is a shape-shifter, sir," she answered, as if reciting from the textbook. "It takes on the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."
"Indeed," Moody rumbled. "No one knows the true form of one – except me, of course – since once they spring out of the dark, enclosed hidey-holes they like so much, they transform. For class today, you will take turns confronting it, testing your force of mind, because that alone is what will save you." He paused at a hand going up. "Yes, Miss Li?"
"What about the Riddikulus Charm, sir?" the girl asked quietly, looking gingerly at the now-shaking wardrobe. "Isn't that used to fight Boggarts?"
"The charm is a crutch, Miss Li," the Auror answered in a half-growl. "It forces a Boggart to take the form you picture in your mind, but it does not defeat the creature. Only laughter does. Which means that you have to find a way to make what frightens you most…amusing."
There was a very thoughtful sort of silence following his words.
"On your feet then," Moody said. "And over to the walls with the lot of you. I will call you up one at a time, understood? Miss Granger, you are up first."
Given the role the brunette had played during the incident in the first day of class, he thought she might be more ready to face her fears than most. And by all appearances, the girl seemed ready, striding up to the front of the class with wand in hand.
"On the count of three then," he said, pointing his wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One – two – now!"
A jet of sparks shot from the end of his wand and the wardrobe door opened, revealing…
"No…"
…the translucent form of Matou Shinji, hovering over his broken, bloody corpse.
"You killed me, Hermione," the shade said tonelessly, dull white eyes seeming to stare into her soul. "Just like you killed Sokaris."
Hermione's mind went blank. Thoughts of a counter-charm, laughing in the face of fear, anything at all really, vanished. Everything else seemed inconsequential, save for what was in front of her.
"No…I…"
"You killed me," the shade continued, coming closer and closer to the stricken girl. "Because you knew I would never be yours."
"No…Shinji…I…."
Her wand clattered to the ground, as she lost her grip on the item, with the rest of the class silent at this.
"You killed me…" it whispered, drifting closer still, but before it could make contact with her, a magic rope of orange and gold light caught Hermione about the waist, pulling her away from the Boggart.
"Miss Li, you're up!"
The petite Asian girl stepped forward – and suddenly she was surrounded by a blazing inferno, a ring of flames licking at her robes, coming closer, closer, closer, closer still with no way out.
But how…? Fire can't burn on stone!
But such thoughts fled from her mind. How could it be otherwise, when she knew she was going to die, when there was nothing she could do, when smoke and heat and flame were driving out everything else?
She couldn't think well enough to cast a spell – any spell. Her lips opened and closed, but no words spilled from them, only laughter – hysterical, half-mad laughter, but it worked. A path opened and she fled.
"Mister Goldstein!"
As he approached, the flames transformed into a vision of a rabbi he'd known well – only this man was looking at him with hate and disgust written on his face.
M'khashephah lo tichayyah.
The rabbi's form flickered, becoming one of his friends from childhood, a young girl who pointed an accusing finger at him.
M'khashephah lo tichayyah.
Again and again the form shifted, becoming each one of the many people he knew from synagogue.
M'khashephah lo tichayyah.
And they repeated those words – those hateful hateful words that translated to "Thou shall not suffer a witch to live."
Against them, what could he do? Raise his hand and cast a spell, thus revealing himself to be exactly what they accused him of being?
He…he…
…but the point was rendered moot when he too was pulled away from the Boggart by a rope of enchanted light.
"Miss Brocklehurst!"
Mandy Brocklehurst had never been the bravest of her peers – never the most valiant or courageous, but then, she'd never had any big fears.
No big fears except that she'd die young and alone, given that her dead body lay before her, eyes fixed and open forever, mouth open in a last gasp of shock, limbs twisted at an unnatural angle.
'But I can't be dead. After all, I'm right here…'
And her wand was in her hand – which it wouldn't be if she were no longer of this earth.
"Riddikulus!" she cried, with the corpse being replaced with an earthworm crawling across the floor's cold stones.
And so on and on it went until at last Matou Shinji was called to the front, with the Boggart taking the form of a wizened old man with a gnarled cane – a man who was almost a shriveled, hairless version of Alastor Moody. He looked harmless enough, with olive-green kimono and a charcoal-grey haori, but there was a sense of malevolence and danger that radiated from every move the man made.
"Useless," the man spat. "You are indeed a disgrace to the name of Makiri."
"No."
"You and your father both. No, you are worse. Your good-for-nothing father left an even more worthless son. The only one worthy of anything was your repl—"
"Riddikulus!" Shinji snarled, as the shape before him changed, the old man's form catching fire as Matou Zouken screamed, strange, unnatural sounds issuing from his throat as he writhed and twisted and howled in the heat of the fire.
And at the sight of his nightmare burning away to ash, Matou Shinji simply laughed and laughed and laughed.
That night, when the Stone Cutters met to discuss recent events, the group was somewhat subdued. But then, that was to be expected, given the shadow cast both by Moody's lesson and by the intrusion of Sirius Black.
"You alright, mate?"
"We heard stories about what happened in your Defense class."
"Boggarts."
"Creepy things."
So Fred and George concluded, remembering how they'd faced one before – and had been paralyzed by one, which had taken on the form of first Sokaris', then Harry's worst fear. Sokaris' had been terrifying, monstrous beyond words – a vampire that was unlike any vampire they had ever learned about, ever seen, ever imagined possible. A monster named TATARI that had referred to her as his "daughter."
And then there had been Harry's – taking the form of a dying Daphne Greengrass.
If he'd called that one forth again…
"…I saw her," Harry said, refusing to meet his comrades' eyes. "Sokaris. She…she said she should have gone alone, since I wasn't strong enough. That she didn't blame me, but that she should have calculated that such an outcome would transpire."
"Ah…" the twins replied in unison, not knowing what to say to that. They too had wondered if there was something they could have done. If they hadn't been disabled so quickly, if they'd been able to hold Quirrell off for at least enough time to give Sokaris and Harry warning of what was to happen.
Would it have changed anything?
They didn't know.
"And what did the boggart become?" Shinji asked in the silence. "Afterwards, I mean. To make Moody end his lesson."
"Sokaris'…."
It had become TATARI – or at least a version of TATARI – based on what he remembered of the monster Sokaris had so feared. Because that was what he had saved Sokaris from – something that he, and he alone did not have to fear.
"Merlin…you mean they faced…" Hillard whispered, shivering. He remembered the power of that Boggart. The incredible killing intent that had frozen them all where they'd stood. The thing which even he had been unable to face. The thing whose very name meant curse.
Harry only nodded.
Well, that explained why Alastor Moody had gone spare, pushing Potter out of the way – and dealing with the resulting Boggart – Lord Voldemort – himself. This had once more traumatized the class, at which point, Moody had just dismissed them for the day, knowing they were in no state to continue.
"We had something to talk about today though, didn't we?" Shinji asked, with Fred and George nodding.
"Ah, you see—"
"—our little brother—
"—Ickle Ronniekins—"
"—wishes to join the Stone Cutters."
"We told him—"
"—that we'd bring it up—"
"—with the rest of you."
Shinji was tempted to just say no, and let that be the end of it, given that he didn't think the current rumors had any basis in truth – and he knew Harry agreed. On the other hand, evidence suggested that Ronald Weasley had indeed encountered Sirius Black, and it would be useful to talk to him, at least, to find out what was happening.
"We need more information," Hillard said thoughtfully. "Something that can verify his story. I've been working with Tonks, Moody's assistant, and I know your brother was questioned by Moody, but aside from that, she's been very tight-lipped about the business."
"Does that mean we have to ask him, then?" Harry asked, wrinkling his nose. He didn't really want to talk to Ronald Weasley, given his impression of the boy, but then, if he had done something heroic.
"Maybe we could ask his Consul what he knows about him," Hillard replied, considering their options. "It would give us a baseline for what he fears and what he thinks – aside from what you have to say, Fred and George. No offense, but he is your brother."
"None—"
"—taken—"
"—and from what we know, he fears—"
"—spiders."
Hillard just looked at his fellow pranksters. "I'm guessing there was a story there that I should know about?"
"Ah. I…might have turned his teddy bear into a giant spider when he broke my toy broomstick. By accident, of course."
"…of course, brother of mine, an accident."
Shinji nodded.
"Ok. So who is having this dinner then?"
Somehow, he thought he shouldn't have been surprised when the rest of them looked at him.
"Me?"
"Well, we want someone who both Ron and his Consul might consider an equal, so that means it can't be anyone older," Hillard explained, gesturing to himself and then to the twins. "And then it can't be Harry, since he's…"
"…a Slytherin," Harry said flatly. "And half the other rumors are about me. I think…the rest of us can be around either disillusioned or under Invisibility Cloaks while you ask questions though?"
Shinji frowned slightly.
"Can I bring a guest of my own? I hear Longbottom has a co-consul, and I don't want to be outnumbered."
"Who, Granger?" Hillard asked, frowning himself. "No offense, but…"
"Lovegood, actually," Shinji answered.
"Looney—"
"—Lovegood?" the twins chimed in.
"She's not loony," Shinji said mildly, with the twins looking at him – and then each other - thoughtfully.
"Well, use your judgment then," Hillard allowed. "I presume this will all be in the Kitchens?"
"Naturally."
"We don't know about—"
"—everyone else—"
"—but the way to Ronniekins' heart—"
"—is through his stomach."
That, and it was a place which had special meaning for the Stone Cutters, without the formal implications of inviting someone to the Founders' Tower, which they agreed would only be done if that person was to be inducted into the Society.
"…I didn't know there were House Elves at Hogwarts," Neville Longbottom – one of the two consuls of the Gryffindor second years – was saying over a dinner of various noodles and curries. "Or that we could ask for special meals or use them to help us get around."
The Stone Cutters had chosen that night to carry out their plans, sending invitations by House-Elf – and providing transport via the same method to throw off any trackers.
"It isn't common knowledge," Shinji said conspiratorially. "Let's just say it's one of the privileges of being a Stone Cutter."
"Really?" Fay Dunbar – the other consul of the second year Gryffindors – asked. "I've heard stories about your Society. We all know how you killed a troll, of course, and how you all have Orders of Merlin. But aside from Harry Potter, and maybe the Twins, we don't know much about you." She turned to the blonde girl sitting next to Shinji. "For instance, you're not a Stone Cutter, are you, Miss Lovegood?"
"Oh no," Luna answered. "Our paths just happened to cross this evening."
"…and on Halloween too, I heard," Fay noted, remembering how delighted Sir Nicholas was – and how he'd shown off his newly severed head. "Are you two…?"
"Fay, that's—" Neville broke in, but Shinji waved off the inquiry.
"Of course we are," Shinji replied coolly.
"What he said," Luna agreed, as the two shared a look and something like a secret smile. "Friends, that is. Or maybe partners, like you and your co-consul?"
"Ah, that is…" Neville began, his cheeks flushing a bit. Thankfully, he didn't have to continue, as Shinji did for him.
"Anyway, Longbottom, I never had the chance to congratulate you on beating Quirrell's challenge last year," the Stone Cutter noted. "Using the cry of a mandrake was a stroke of genius."
"Not genius, really…I just always liked gardening…" Neville said bashfully. "It's Fay who's the real genius. She's the only Gryffindor in our year Snape never has anything bad to say about. Quite a feat, since we share potions with Slytherin."
Shinji remembered that particular tidbit, well, given that Professor Snape was prone to cursing the names of people who had blown up cauldrons, caused potions to boil over, or other such.
"You've gotten better yourself, from what I hear," the Matou scion noted. "I haven't heard Snape complain about you – well, since early first year, actually."
"…that's because Fay has been helping me."
"Heh. You help me in Herbology, so it's only fair," the Scottish girl answered. "If we ever had to gather potion ingredients in the wild, you'd be better at it than I am."
"…not that Snape ever has us do that."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Shinji replied, recalling something from the summer. "The Wizarding Schools Potions Championship is coming up in a few years. I hear in that you have to gather ingredients and brew potions on the spot."
"Somehow, I don't think I'll be picked as champion for that," Neville said sourly. "Maybe Fay or the Weasley Twins. I don't even like Professor Snape much."
"At least you didn't have him as your Boggart!" Fay chided, to which Neville smiled weakly. "Unlike poor Lavender."
"Who did you have as your Boggart?" Luna asked curiously, looking at the three older students.
"…a letter from the Ministry saying I'd been barred from playing Quidditch for life," Fay said after a few moments.
"…my grandfather," Shinji added.
"Huh, mine was my grandmum," Neville said. "Funny how scary grandparents can be, isn't it?"
Shinji sighed, shaking his head.
"Believe me Longbottom, you don't know the half of it," he responded. And quite frankly, Longbottom probably didn't, but Shinji wasn't about to press the issue. "And you, Luna?"
The blond girl was silent for some time, going as still as a statue at the question.
"I saw a Dementor," Luna answered, after almost a minute. "The only thing I really fear."
"A Dementor," Shinji repeated. "Not death?"
"No – if I die, I'll see my Mum again," the blonde said quietly. "But if a Dementor gets me, I'll just stop existing. It's worse than death."
Luna shivered, and Shinji found himself giving the blonde a hug for a moment – but just for a moment.
"I hope one day, I can learn the Patronus, so I don't have to be afraid anymore."
"That's a tough spell," Fay noted. "But then you're around Stone Cutters, who I guess are very tough people."
"I'm in good company," Luna answered. "Your friend Neville is a good fellow himself."
Over the course of the conversation, Shinji managed to tease out a few more pieces of information, such as how Ron's Boggart had been none other than Sirius Black, who had had whispered "Padfoot's coming for you, boy. You hear me? Padfoot's gonna kill you," with the Weasley boy passing out.
At the evening's end, the group had agreed to meet again, probably following one of Lockhart's Convocation of Consuls, the mock ICW sessions in which he talked about international policy in ways they'd never thought of.
The interrogation of Ron Weasley happened the following night, after the other Stone Cutters – Fred and George mostly – filled Shinji in on a few things. This time, Shinji had decided against bringing Luna, given that he didn't think Ron would respond well to a third party being present that he knew of. Of course, the other Stone Cutters were in the room, disillusioned or under invisibility cloaks, but the Matou boy saw no reason to reveal that.
Some things were better left unspoken, after all.
"So uh, why did you call me here?" Ron said, looking down at his half-eaten plate of chicken, sausages and bread. "You aren't…you don't...you don't like blokes do you?"
"Of course not, Mister Weasley," Shinji answered, though he raised an eyebrow at the remark. "I am here on behalf of the Stone Cutters, given your actions on the night of Halloween."
"Ah," Ron replied eloquently.
Could this be it? Could it be that his moment of glory had come? Was he to finally come into his own and leave his brothers' shadow?
"I have some questions, however."
Ron's face went still as stone.
"Of course."
"Don't look so stiff, Mister Weasley," Shinji admonished, pouring the redheaded boy a drink. "Have a glass of pumpkin juice."
"Ah…Ron," the Weasley boy answered as he took the glass. "I'm Ron, not Mister Weasley."
"Then call me Shinji," the Matou boy said in kind.
They covered the basics of the incident that night, with Ron telling the story of how he had heroically fought off Sirius Black, and Shinji simply nodding until he finished.
"Very interesting," the Ravenclaw noted. "Could I see your wand, please?"
Ron suddenly felt very nervous.
"Why do you need to see it?" he asked, feeling a trickle of sweat race down his spine.
"Oh, just curious," Shinji replied. "I know most hand-me-down wands don't work as well as those that are a perfect match, and I wanted to see what that wand was like."
"Ah. I…see," Ron said, slightly intimidated by this. "You know much about wands, Matou?"
"I was apprenticed to a skilled crafter in Mahoutokoro," Shinji answered, with the redheaded boy swallowing. "So I've learned a thing or two."
"I…uh…don't have it on me," Ron continued, looking shiftily about as if he thought someone else might be there.
"Bit risky, given that Black might come back, especially if he's after you," Shinji replied mildly. "I mean, if you beat the greatest servant of Voldemort, then wouldn't he consider it his duty to come back and kill you?"
Ronald Weasley had never been a coward exactly, but the thought that Sirius Black might return, targeting him, was utterly terrifying. After all, now that he'd seen – come face to face with – the man, he knew how little his skill and bravado mattered.
"I…I'll remember it in the future," Ron managed to get out, with Shinji smiled thinly as he saw the other boy pale.
"Good," Shinji said. "Just a few more questions then."
"Ok…"
"Why did Black come to Gryffindor Tower?" he asked. "Surely he would have come to the Slytherin Dungeons if he'd wanted to kill Harry."
"He wasn't after Potter," Ron ground out. "He came after me."
"And you fought him off," Shinji noted. "Impressive of course. Out of curiosity though, does the name Moony mean anything to you?"
"Never heard of 'em," Ron answered forthrightly.
"Alright, how about Prongs?"
"Never heard of him either."
"And Wormtail?" he asked innocuously.
Ron blanched at the mention of that name – the name that Sirius Black had called Scabbers.
"I…I don't know what you're talking about."
But his words lacked conviction, delivered as they were by a trembling boy.
"Are you sure about that, Ron?" Shinji asked, his lips twisting into an unfriendly smile. "Tell me truthfully, does the name Wormtail mean anything to you?"
Ron flinched this time, looking away and refusing to answer.
"Alright then, I don't need to know," Shinji said more pleasantly. "Have a drink."
The boy from the east poured the other a glass of what Ron thought was pumpkin juice – only to find it wasn't when he felt something burning as he swallowed.
"What was…?"
But his words died on his lips as he saw the cold smile on Shinji's face.
"You should have felt a burning sensation go down your throat just now," the boy from the east explained. "Followed by a sense of utter calm, as if all that bothers you no longer exists."
Ron Weasley's eyes widened, given that that sensation of utter peace filled him in the very next moment, that nothing was wrong, that he wasn't nervous – that there was no reason to be nervous. His panic…was gone.
Could this…could this be…
"…Veritaserum?" Ron croaked out. Yet he could not feel the sense of horror he imagined he would. He couldn't feel anything, really, except being completely calm and at ease.
"One has to assure you're being honest, yes?" Shinji replied with a thin smile. "Now tell me, Mister Weasley – what did Padfoot want with Wormtail?"
He panicked. Should have panicked – but couldn't panic. Somehow, the urge to flee, the urge to run, the knowledge that everything was wrong had been silenced, and all he could do was talk. And so he did. He mentioned how Padfoot – Sirius Black – had come to Gryffindor Tower in search of Wormtail – which he identified as Scabbers, the Weasley family rat, and of course, how Black had tortured him.
Afterwards, Shinji had him drink something else, whereupon Ronald Weasley fell asleep.
"See him back to his bed, would you, Kizzy?" he asked, with the house elf in question taking Ron back to his room in Gryffindor Tower.
It was really remarkable what a Calming Draught and some suggestion could accomplish, especially when followed by a bit of Forgetfulness Potion so the subject wouldn't remember the evening.
"Your thoughts?" he said to what seemed like empty air, as the forms of the other Stone Cutters materialized from nothingness.
"We—"
"—have a secret to share first," Fred and George said in unison, pulling out a bit of parchment and waving their wands over it.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," George continued, with writing appearing on parchment: Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs - Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER'S MAP.
"We nicked this from Filch in first year," Fred said quietly. "This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school."
"It even has the secret passageways of Hogwarts," George related.
"And tracks where everyone else is," Fred added.
"Merlin…" Hillard breathed. "This is how you never get caught."
"Well…"
"…yes," the twins admitted. "But we—"
"—have a bigger problem on our hands."
"See? If Sirius Black is Padfoot—"
"—he knows the passageways too—"
"—and how to use them."
"Every one of them."
"Wormtail…" Harry repeated. "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs – they're all code names. And if Black said Wormtail was the rat—"
"—the Weasley family rat," George added sourly.
"—that means Wormtail was an animagus," the Boy-Who-Lived concluded.
"I always did wonder—"
"—how old Scabbers survived over ten years—"
"—when most rats only live about three," the twins said thoughtfully.
"Ten years?" Hillard repeated. "So you got him…just after the war against You-Know-Who ended?"
The Stone Cutters went stone silent at this.
"And if he hid for that long as a rat, that means he didn't want people to know he was alive," Harry noted. "Which means he probably wasn't on the side of the Ministry."
"Merlin's bloody balls," Fred swore. "Are you saying—"
"—the rat was a Death Eater?"
"But why would Black hunt him then?" Shinji asked. "If he and Wormtail were both loyal to Voldemort?"
"That I don't know," Hillard said. He was quiet for some moments, then thought of something. "You know, one of these – either Prongs or Moony – was probably one of your parents, Harry."
"Huh? Mine?" Harry repeated.
"Black was known to be your parent's best friend – until he betrayed them to You-Know-Who," Hillard continued. "Even during their Hogwarts' days. I bet, if you look in their group of friends, you'll find out who Wormtail is supposed to be. Probably someone missing, or thought to be dead."
"Missing a finger too," Fred added. "Since if you're injured in one form, you keep that as an animagus. Huh, never thought we'd learn about the people who made the map this way. Or even that one of them was your father, Harry. Wonder which one?"
"…well, there are only two options: Prongs or Moony," George noted. "And Moony sounds like a wolf. A drunk wolf."
"Or werewolf."
"Or that."
"…you think they were all animagi?" Harry asked. "But if Wormtail is a rat, what would that make…?"
"Padfoot might be a dog," Hillard said. "Given that their feet have pads. Moony is probably a wolf though. Or like you said, a were. This is big. We have to tell someone."
"Maybe Snape," Harry said quietly. "He might know the people involved, given his age. And he can probably tell Dumbledore."
And of course, since Harry had the most direct connection to the War, he thought maybe the Professor would give him some answers.
"Oh. Well, if you're going, make sure to tell Snape that you found out Voldemort's real name," Shinji asked. "The Grey Lady told me, if you were curious."
"Oh? And what is it then?" Hillard asked, though all were quite curious.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle."