Chapter Three - Pest Control
Harry flicked his mother's wand again, and again. A very strange mix of objects were scattered atop the lengthy dining table, each one transfigured by Sirius. With each flick of Harry's wand, one of these items would detransfigure, back into its original identity as a silver spoon.
"You're definitely ready, Harry. I'm very impressed with how quickly you picked this spell up. Silent casting isn't easy."
Harry smiled a self-satisfied smile at Sirius' praise. He was ready, he thought. He looked down again at his mum's wand, which felt much more similar to his phoenix feather wand than the yew one that had taken its place. He was grateful that one of his parents' wands had turned out to suit him well enough. Harry hated even looking at his new wand, let alone using it.
Sirius grumbled to himself about something as he levitated Harry's luggage into a pile. "Are you sure you don't want me to come and stay in Hogsmeade, or the Shrieking Shack?"
Harry shook his head, but after saying 'no' this many times in the last twenty-four hours, he no longer felt the frustration. "You know it's too risky, Sirius. We have a plan anyway, and you need to be here."
Sirius sighed, "I've been anticipating actually doing something for the first time in years, and you've somehow convinced me it's you who's doing it all."
When Harry made to reply, Sirius waved him off. "Don't worry about me, I'm just feeling cooped up. I can manage for a little while longer."
Harry finished detransfiguring a melon, a small wooden Rhino, and a few unflattering marble depictions of Umbridge.
"We need to get going now, I think," Harry said, glancing at a clock.
Sirius gestured for him to come over, "Stay safe, Harry."
Harry embraced him. "I will, don't worry. I'll be on the mirror tonight at some point and update you on how things went."
Sirius patted him on the back. "I have complete confidence in you. And I know you'll make me proud, but do remember I'm here to help, even if it's risky. You're not doing this alone."
Harry smiled again at Sirius, feeling that bubbling warmth in his chest that he'd always treasured from the moment Sirius had first said, 'When all this is over, we'll be a proper family.'
Once Harry picked up his belongings, Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and, with a twist of magic, Grimmauld Place disappeared.
"Thanks, Uncle Vernon," Harry said as he climbed out of the back seat. He quickly ran around and opened the boot in case his Uncle decided to speed off with all of his luggage still aboard.
Vernon did speed off, once Harry had closed the boot, tyres screeching as he rejoined the traffic on Euston road. King's Cross station stood just as Harry remembered, and after double checking all his belongings, he made his way inside.
Harry channelled his building anticipation into a brisk walk as he navigated the congested chaos of the station's pavilion. Despite a few near collisions, he managed to find an empty bench. It was hard to see anything through the forest of adults, so Harry stood on his seat as he waited.
It took a while.
The Weasleys always had pushed their luck when it came to making the train on time, but he'd arrived deliberately early, just in case. As the clock approached ten-to-eleven, a herd of red hair weaved its way through the crowds, and Harry could make out the stressed tones of Molly as she called for her children to follow closely. He couldn't hold back a grin.
Harry leapt down from his perch and dragged his things in the direction of platforms nine and ten. He schooled his expression as he approached, following the sounds of Mrs. Weasley's voice.
"Hurry up, George. Fred, stop trying to trip your brother."
"But I'm Fred," said George.
"Yeah mum, can't you tell apart your own sons?"
Mrs. Weasley sighed good-naturedly, "I'm sorry, boys. Now, hurry before we miss the train."
"Um, excuse me, Ma'am," Harry interrupted, making Mrs. Weasley look around before she looked down, finding Harry. "Do you know the way to platform nine and three-quarters?"
"Oh, hello dear." She looked at Harry's owl. "First time getting to the platform?"
Harry nodded.
"Just follow Ron here through the gate. Make sure to give it a good run up."
Ron gave him a nervous smile as they waited for Percy, Fred, and George to make their way through.
"Hi, I'm Ron. You a first year too?" Ron asked with a nervous smile.
"Yeah," said Harry, a bit tongue tied.
"Come on now, Ron, your turn. Quickly now," Mrs. Weasley said, ushering Ron towards the thick pillar that separated platforms nine and ten.
"See you on the train then," Ron shouted over his shoulder as he started running towards the barrier. He disappeared through. Harry looked around, marvelling, not for the first time, at how the muggles failed to notice anything.
"Now, don't be nervous, dear, give it a good run up and close your eyes if you're scared." Mrs. Weasley said, kindly.
"Thank you, Ma'am. You've been very kind."
She gave him a warm smile and he turned to the barrier, running through with his trunk and cage in hand. The shrill whistle of the Hogwarts express rang in his ears the moment he entered the platform. A puff of warm steamy air kissed his face. Cries and shouts of children and parents alike filled the platform, and Harry could already recognise people as he looked around. He saw Katie Bell hugging her parents goodbye, Crabbe was shaking hands with a large man that Harry assumed was his father, and Harry could just about make out the figure of Ron climbing onto the train.
Harry navigated the crowd, taking care to avoid being stepped on. It was funny how quickly he'd forgotten what it was like to be so small, even among other school children. He lifted his trunk onto the first step of the train and then turned back to grab Hedwig's cage from the floor. Two hands reached from inside the train and grabbed Harry's suitcase, hauling it into the carriage.
"Need a hand?" Fred, well, he thought it was Fred, asked. Fred reached out and handed Harry a wooden hand that squirmed a bit in his grip.
"Uh, thanks," Harry laughed, "but I'm happy with just the two for now."
"Suit yourself. In the meantime, why don't you follow us, we'll help you put your trunk away. In return, you can keep our brother company so we don't have to babysit him."
"Thanks?" Harry laughed.
"Don't mention it. Especially to our mum," said George with a wink.
"I'm Fred, by the way," said definitely George.
"And I'm George," said Fred.
"Harry." He extended a smile, not trusting them enough for another handshake.
Fred glanced at his forehead, but his scar was covered for now by his fringe.
George led them a few carriages down, peaking through the windows in each door until he barged into Ron's. Ron was standing on the seat, leaning out the window and talking to Mrs. Weasley. Harry could make out the top of Ginny's head as she half-hid behind Molly.
Harry left them alone to their farewell, Fred and George being made to promise that they would stay out of trouble, Ron that he would write. Harry knew neither of those things would happen.
With a final whistle, the train began to depart. The boys waved as Ginny briefly kept pace, running along the platform.
"Well, that's us. Want to check on Lee, old boy?" Fred suggested, looping his arm through George's.
"Spiffing idea, my aged fellow," said George. "Later, Ron, Harry."
Ron just rolled his eyes as Harry laughed again.
"They seem funny until you have to live with them every day," said Ron as Harry took a seat opposite him. "Don't take anything they offer you, it'll probably be a prank."
"Yeah," said Harry, "I was given a wriggling hand earlier."
"Oh, that was one of their funnier ones actually." Ron seemed to shiver at a memory.
"I'm Ron, by the way." He offered his hand, but quickly withdrew it to wipe his palm. "Sorry, a bit nervous."
"Don't worry about it, I think most of us are feeling like that. I'm Harry."
Ron nodded, and, after a moment of thought, tried to surreptitiously peak at Harry's forehead.
Harry lifted his fringe with a smile.
"Cor Blimey! You're— you're—"
"Harry Potter. Yeah."
Ron laughed, but he was still looking in awe at Harry's lightning bolt scar.
"That's wicked," said Ron.
Harry smiled, lowering his fringe again.
Ron looked embarrassed and stuttered, "W—well not wicked that you've got a scar and all that. It's just, you know, I've always heard about it and—"
Harry waved him off. "It's fine, honestly. It's just a bit weird for me to get used to. I was raised by muggles and I didn't even know about magic, let alone that I was famous, until a few weeks ago."
"You're kidding," said Ron. "You were raised by muggles? What was that like?"
"Horrible," said Harry, honestly. "The Dursleys are the worst, but they're a bit better since I got my Hogwarts letter. Probably a bit scared to be honest."
Ron nodded. "Wow. So you don't even know what Quidditch is, then?"
Harry cocked his head. "Quidditch?"
As Ron launched into a passionate explanation, spanning the history of the sport, to the details of the Chudley Cannons' disastrous last season. Harry leant back and smiled. Things were going pretty well. Perhaps his worries had been for nothing.
Harry had been subtly eyeing Ron's jacket for the last few hours, trying to ignore his nerves at the idea of seeing Wormtail again. The food trolley had come and gone, and Ron had talked about everything Harry could remember coming up the first time around. Harry was starting to worry if Ron would ever bring out Scabbers.
"Oh, I wanted to try something," said Ron. "I almost forgot." He reached into his pocket for his wand, and his other hand wandered towards a lump in his coat.
Harry leaned forwards in anticipation.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in!" Harry called, hiding his wand in his pockets.
Hermione strode through the door, a serious look on her face. "Have you seen a toad?" she asked. "Neville is missing his. I've looked all up the train but nobody has seen it."
"A toad?" Ron said, looking Hermione up and down. "Who even has a toad any more?"
"Neville does. Did you not hear me the first time? Anyway, will you help us find it?" She regarded Ron for a moment, with his outstretched wand. "Oh, are you about to do some magic? Let's see then. I've practised some spells at home of course, but I'd like to see you try."
Ron looked a bit nervous, now that there was an audience. Neville lingered at the door, half peaking in.
Harry cleared his throat. This was the opportunity he'd been planning for, but now he just needed some older students to be here when it happened.
"Hey Ron," he said, "you can show us that later. Why don't we help Neville find his toad? Could be fun to meet some of the other people on the train. Maybe we'll see your brothers again, too."
Ron looked half annoyed at the idea and half relieved he didn't have to perform his spell. "Yeah alright, I guess."
Hermione looked pleased. "Excellent, I'm Hermione, since we haven't been introduced yet, and you are?"
"Ron."
"I'm Harry."
Hermione raised her eyebrows, "You wouldn't happen to be…"
Harry lifted his fringe again with a smile, "Yeah, Harry Potter."
It wasn't so annoying this time around, their expressions of shock and awe were kind of cute. He'd missed these two so much the last few weeks.
"That's incredible. I've read all about you. You're in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and—"
"Can we get going please," Ron asked, shoving his way past and out of the carriage. Hermione looked at him affronted, then back at Harry. "Is it true that you were raised by Dumbledore?"
Harry also interrupted her flow, "Uh, no. Is it okay if you ask your questions on the move? I don't want to keep them waiting."
Hermione blushed, "Sorry, it's just so strange to read about you like you're the next Merlin one day, and then the next day see you on the train."
Harry laughed. "It's strange to me that people see me that way at all. To me, I'm just Harry. Same as you, another first year."
Hermione looked a bit sceptical, but didn't disagree. "Well, I supposed I thought you'd be a bit taller."
"Hermione!" Neville spoke up for the first time from outside the carriage, looking scandalised.
Harry laughed again, "No it's okay, I wish I was a little bit taller, too."
They started down the train, Hermione asking occasional questions about things she'd read, and Harry giving amused looks to Neville, who returned them shyly. They eventually caught up to Ron, who was standing outside an open carriage, arguing with something Fred or George was saying. This was perfect, just the situation that Harry had been looking for.
"Hey Ron," Harry said over Hermione's head as they arrived next to him. "Why don't you show us that spell you were talking about earlier. Didn't you say your brothers told you about it?"
"Did I?" Ron was looking around at the even bigger audience, nervously. "I guess I did. Well, alright then."
Fred and George shared an amused look and Fred whispered something to Lee Jordan, who sat next to him.
Ron plucked a large rat out of his pocket. Harry smothered his anger and subtly palmed his wand from his place at the back of the group.
Ron looked around, a bit red in the face. "Okay then, here it goes." He took a breath and waved his wand over the top of Scabbers' head. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow."
Harry flicked his wand and everything turned to chaos.
Ron leapt on a seat as the rat transformed into a very surprised looking man. He was not as surprised, however, as the group of teenagers in the carriage. At least three people screamed, Lee Jordan unloading his packet of Bertie Botts onto the floor. Pettigrew reached for his wand, but his arm got tangled in Fred's robes. Wormtail shoved Fred away, eyes wild, snarling. Harry cast a muttered tripping jinx; Wormtail stumbled onto the carriage floor.
"Stupify!" George and Lee bellowed at Pettigrew, who collapsed into heavy unconsciousness.
"Merlin's bloody beard, who is that?" Fred yelled. Harry could hear adjacent doors unlocking as people next door responded to the commotion.
"Wow, Ron," Neville said quietly. "That was a strange spell."
"I have no bloody clue what happened. I didn't mean to do that." Ron squealed, face white.
"That wasn't a real spell, Ron," said George. "We made it up. I have no idea how you managed that."
"Why would an Animagus be pretending to be Scabbers, though?" Lee Jordan asked. When everyone looked at him he continued, "He must be an Animagus, like McGonagall."
"That's meant to be a surprise for the first years," said a voice behind Harry. He turned to see Percy Weasley, who was peering over the crowd that had gathered.
"That's hardly the biggest concern right now, Perce." George choked. "Scabbers transformed into a man."
"Merlin's great beard, who's that?" Percy shouted, noticing the sprawled figure.
"Shouldn't we take his wand or something?" Hermione piped up, pointing to the lumps sticking out of Pettigrew's back pocket.
George grabbed a napkin from the bench next to him and gingerly reached out, holding two wands out for everyone to see.
"Why's he got two?" Lee asked.
Hermione swallowed, looking a bit pale. "That's you-know-who's wand," she said, pointing at the long white wand that sat conspicuously against the red napkin.
Harry was now even more glad he'd decided to use his mum's wand instead of the one from Ollivanders. There was something creepy, alien even, about the bone white stick that looked so similar to his own. The red napkin background was appropriate and disturbing in equal measure.
"Bloody hell," said Ron. "There's no way. How do you know that?"
"I saw a drawing of it in Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. Yew, about thirteen inches. It's got the exact same carving around the hilt, a snake through the eyes of a skull."
The room fell into a disturbed silence as they stared at it.
"I think someone should go tell the conductor," said Harry, quietly.
"You're right. I'll go," said Percy. He quickly rushed off down the train, calling out for people to make way.
"Are you sure he's out, Fred?" asked George, prodding the unconscious man with his foot.
Fred chuckled nervously, "I hope so. We only learned this spell last term. Wouldn't hurt to make sure, I suppose." Three more stunners hit Pettigrew, who jolted slightly, making a few people jump. "Maybe we should grab someone else, just to make sure." Hermione said.
"Good idea, I'll get one of the other prefects," said Lee, jumping up, careful to avoid the sprawled man on the floor.
Harry was very pleased with how this had turned out.
Eventually, the conductor, a short old man, who was apparently a former Auror, came down personally to see what the issue was. After casting a few spells that Harry didn't recognise, he ushered everyone out of the compartment and sealed the door off. Prefects were told to guard the door and not let anyone near. The Aurors were on their way, and there was already a Hogwarts Professor on the train who would shortly be coming to have a look, apparently. Harry wondered who it was. He didn't remember seeing any of the Professors on the train in first year.
Harry and Ron eventually found themselves back in their old compartment, Hermione and Neville along with them. Ron looked about as traumatised as Harry remembered from their third year, poor lad.
"I can't believe Scabbers was really a wizard," Ron said, for about the fourth time. "I fed him bacon at breakfast every day."
Harry found it amusing that that was the thing Ron was offended by, the desecration of breakfast.
"Well I can tell you that's not what I expected from my first trip to school," Hermione said. Neville nodded in agreement. Harry hoped they weren't all too traumatised, but at least they wouldn't have to deal with Pettigrew.
George opened the compartment door and peeked his head in. "The Aurors are here. Apparently they've identified the man as Peter Pettigrew."
"Peter Pettigrew? But he's meant to be dead," Hermione said with shock.
"How—" Ron drew a deep breath, "Don't tell me. Rise and Fall?"
Hermione nodded, looking unabashed.
"Yeah, weird stuff," said George. "Well, thought I'd let you know. Nothing to worry about though, they're arresting him now and taking him in for questioning, or something. Professor Quirrell said we did a good job of stunning him."
Harry looked up sharply. Professor Quirrell was on the train? Why was he here?
Seeing their troubled faces, George seemed to change tactic, "Don't worry, you lot, Hogwarts basically never has trouble like this. I bet this is the most interesting thing that happens in your whole time here."
Once George had left, the atmosphere started to slowly relax, and Harry let himself relax with it. And before long, they were laughing as Ron and Neville introduced Harry and Hermione to Exploding Snap.
As the time passed and the day wore on without a knock on the door from Quirrell, Harry began to smile more easily. Whatever business Quirrell had on the train, it didn't seem to involve Harry.
Harry rubbed his arms, feeling a bit of a chill settle in. The sun was on its decline in the clear blue sky, and the September afternoon was losing its heat. It must have been the approach to Scotland. Harry couldn't wait to see Hogwarts again and the bleak beauty of the Scottish countryside as they approached.
A minute later, the temperature continued to fall at an alarming rate. Ice began to creep along the edges of the window, and Harry's stomach dropped as an all too familiar feeling came over him.
The train began to slow. Harry reached for his wand, a well of dread opening in his stomach.
"What's that?" Ron said, face against the quickly misting window.
Harry stood up and locked the door with a click.
"What's going on, Harry?" Neville asked in a shaky voice.
Harry turned, trying to disguise the panic he was feeling. He hadn't expected this, but of course, with Sirius escaping Azkaban, it made perfect sense.
Harry swallowed, throat suddenly dry, "Dementors."
