"People have forgotten this truth," the fox said. "But you mustn't forget it. You become responsible forever for what you've tamed. You're responsible for your rose."


Before March 3rd 1977, the name Rupert Vingardium was rather unmentioned. Maybe the surname could ring a bell or two for those most attentive to the Daily Prophet but even them, could find it difficult to situate the remembrance.

After March 3rd 1977 however, Rupert Vingardium would be forever remembered in the darkest history of Hogwarts as a lost, hurt and hateful boy. Skilful parseltongue, showing high aptitude to charms and defence against the dark arts and, tragically - and the one thing he would forever be remembered most - a murderer.

But March 3rd 1977 really was the day when he could have been so many other things except, not necessarily fate but more as the consequences of a hate and violence filled education would want it, March 3rd 1977 was the day Rupert chose not to be remembered by that time when he helped a fox untangle itself from a long forgotten hunting trap, even if it meant he hurt himself in the process pretty harshly. Or how he would sneak into his sister's room as she struggled to breathe with her struggling little lungs, and he would softly trace her eyebrows with his fingers, shushing her to sleep, knowing how their father would arrive home soon enough and much worse it would be if she were not to keep quiet. Or just simply how he rather enjoyed reading about Greek mythology.

No, Rupert Vingardium— the boy -would soon be forgotten, choosing instead to be forever thought of (before being shaken out of people's mind as a hurtful memory) as just Vingardium, a sad chapter.


After a lot of convincing, Madam Pomfrey agreed that the two most vulnerable students would hide under the invisibility cloak while herself, Remus and Sirius (with Peter in his pocket) would be in charge of maintaining watch to their surroundings as they exited the school.

They understood more or less that snakes navigated the world mostly through the sense of smell so the hiding invisible was not so much of protection from the animals themselves but more for the very possibility that someone was controlling them and took notice of the students.

Peter rather fancied that he kept his hiding spot, away from the action and unbeknownst to most. If all went smoothly as it looked like to be, he wouldn't even have to draw out his wand.

They were getting close to the last stretch of the way, having only to pass by the library corridor, when Sirius stepped on a puddle that must have formed from the rain that had started to pour as the seasons crashed. Remus looked at it and then followed his gaze through the line of windows all throughout the corridor— every single window was wide opened which was… odd. However the hall seemed rather empty, left for the different sized puddles from the rainy weather.

Madame Pomfrey switched her wand and annunciated the closing enchantment. One by one, each window closed off in a woosh movement, echoing the hall and trembling the air. With each closing of a window, what looked like a stick fell from the ceiling, unbalanced by the switch of the environment. By the last window, the unlikely group had all turned their heads up to understand what the falling zombies really were.

Remus, who had seen enough crippling scenarios coming out of his worst nightmares, felt his entire body shiver wild cold sweats, looking at what he could only describe as a play jungle of snakes, all intertwined in the iron frame that adorned the archway architecture of that one particular corridor.

The group looked uncertain at one another, possibly agreeing that they should keep quiet and not make brusque movements.

"Maybe we should turn around and go through the Great Hall" offered Remus as quietly as he could, without taking his eyes off of the ceiling.

"That's double the time it took us just to get here." Sirius countered. "If we cross this path, we'll be out of here just in a couple of doors"

"How are you two feeling?" Madame Pomfrey asked the invisible students, unsure of where exactly they stood.

It was the Hufflepuff player who answered, taking off the cloak and showing himself, half-carrying the nauseated girl. "I'm fine enough but she's nearly passing out and that's—" He made a struggling movement, stepping her away from his broken rib. "That's harder" He finished showing just as such.

Sirius was quick to act. "Alright, hop on then." He mentioned to the first year to climb on his back, which she sombrely obliged. Sirius then exchanged a look with Remus, silently aligning that the girl needed help sooner than later.

"Right. Let's move on then." Remus said and they all nodded in consent.

In Sirius' pocket, Peter hid further, more uncomfortable even than most, having his rat instincts of dreading snakes.

As they walked further, it became clear enough that they would not pass by unnoticed. Every reptile seemed to be paying close attention to the humans, moving to their very steps. Remus hoped he was imagining it but he could not help the sense that they were… hungry.

It happened quickly in slow movements. A couple of snakes who were already on the floor or the walls, started making sounds and getting dangerously close. Suddenly one of the bigger pythons fell from its place in the ceiling, making Madame Pomfrey to squeal and to throw her away with the Leviosa charm. The energy then intensified and more snakes felt threatened or simply indeed, hungry enough to move rapidly, fiercely attacking.

"Run" Sirius ordered and without questioning, they all started towards the end of the corridor, while casting protective spells along the way.

Horrified, Sirius realized they had miscalculated the actual number of snakes in hiding. It seemed now they came in waves moving as such, and the thought crossed his mind that not even by flying, was there enough space for them to move past it.

His reflexes were conditioned by the weight on his shoulders, carrying the younger student, which showed a problem when he missed one of the viscous animals and slipped, falling on the floor. Peter was shot away from his friend's pocket and landed near Sirius face.

"Wormtail, help us out mate!" Sirius said, relieved for remembering his friend.

However, and what followed would haunt Sirius in the back of his mind for the rest of his life, the two friends heard a rattlesnake coming awfully close. And just as Sirius shot himself up, Peter, still in his rat form, ran away from the scene just as quickly as he appeared, straight through a door hole.

It was like a sting to Sirius, he was almost sure it hurt much more than if he had actually been bitten.

But a scream from Remus quickly brought him back to focus and, having spotted the Hufflepuff, he had an idea.

"Everyone— the cloak. Get behind it"

At first they were confused but then Sirius scram "Now" and they obeyed. They all gathered, Sirius helping Remus to untangle himself from the tricky situation he was in and stabilizing the girl again with the help of Madame Pomfrey, once all five were gathered behind the cloak, halfway the hall, Sirius clearly stated

"Incendium"

The wave of flames countered the sea of snakes and, being protected from the ancient magical fabric that only a deathly hollow could carry, the group kept passing by the flames almost untouched.

Without needing indications, all ran as fast as they could once they had left the worst of the claustrophobic encounter and, with one last effort, they got off the castle still in alarm, uneasy when people started gathering around them and touching them, helping them up. Their first reaction was to shoo them away, traumatized that their little fingers were but more of the same creeping snakes, crawling up on them.


Peter blamed it on his instincts. It had to be. In his rat form, his natural predator stood too close for him to be rational about it. Sirius would have to understand, he just had to.

He was calming down his little rat heart on his beating chest, before he heard voices coming from a nearby room. His snout made most of the work realizing who they were before he actually saw them, sneaking in through the door.

"What did he say?" Was the voice of a younger Slytherin that Peter did not necessarily recognize.

"While the Dark Lord appreciates your… commitment to the cause and he certainly will take the name Vingardium with high regard as a dedicated follower… there's little he values as much as order. And, as you most certainly can agree, this whole apparatus is anything but ordeal." Mulciber spoke with deliberate pause and Peter realized there was a lack of mocking on his tone of voice that was so customary to the older student.

And the mention of a "Dark Lord"… was that—?

He continued.

"He reprimands your lack of obedience however and takes you as smart enough to know what needs to happen next for you to mend the recklessness of your choices." Mulciber's voice was resolute now. It was important that the Vingardium boy understood the implications.

There was silence and Peter moved forward to finally match a face to the voice and, apparently, author of this whole deal.

When he saw him, he finally came to see the broken look of a boy who knew little but of war. He was pale and, even though there was a challenging grin on Vingardium's face, understanding the hint on Mulciber's message, his eyes were grey and fogged.

"I can only imagine how much you tried to dissuade him Mulciber, so thank you" Vingardium weakly voiced with sarcasm.

"Listen here Rupert, this is your circus." Crow who so far had stood quietly on the side, looking on edge, finally spoke. "You and your daddy want to have your own little ideas- be my guest. But don't blame me for following the winning side instead of leading the way into madness. You did this, you—"

"Our ideas?" Vingardium raised his voice. "You're saying you don't really believe they're biologically different any more Crow? That there's ways in which Mudbloods are not truly wizards?"

"That's not what I said." Crow's voice trembled slightly, taking a quick look at Mulciber, as if to ensure the other believed him. "Of course I know they are wrong in many ways, freaks of nature—"

"Then I was just doing what you believe in is right." Vingardium finished, with little strength he still had in his voice. "As did my dad…"

"Vingardium," Mulciber finally spoke with a finalizing tone "if you don't do it, the Dark Lord himself will make sure of it in ways I can only assume are far worse then your little pets here." He took a look at the room, taking notice of the audience of snakes surrounding the boy.

But as he looked, he also registered the various different bites Vingardium presented in his body. The paleness and weakness of the boy registering now as what it really meant.

"I thought you could control them" Mulciber commented.

Vingardium gave another weak grin before saying, "You can never really control a free thing… maybe tell your Dark Lord that."

Mulciber swallowed and straightened his posture, denying the chill that ran through him. "We will leave the school now, make sure we are seen. I'm guessing soon enough they will find a way to put a stop to this so…" He took a last look at the boy's haunting eyes who starred back. "I'd suggest you hurry"

Peter was quick to act, jumping on one of the Slytherin bags to take on their ride off of there. Mulciber left without saying another word and Crow quickly followed after a spiteful grin to Vingardium who's last strength of will had clearly left his body.

The last Peter saw of the Rupert boy, was him whispering gibberish to his army, and Pete could not but compare the scene to of a father saying goodbye to his children.


Sirius was looking at the different groups of students scattered in the courtyard by houses. There were many more students and much better organized since he had gone inside and back out again. There was someone in particular he was looking for and seeing he was eyeing the group of Slytherins, it would be easy to guess who.

But a kind and familiar voice raised his attention and he quickly followed it, as if a young boy who had lost his parents in the beach and tried to trace back the laughter of his father.

"Mr. Potter?" His sweet voice called.

Fleamont Potter quickly turned away from whomever it was he was talking, finding Sirius in relief.

"Sirius" he said, opening his arms.

Sirius ran to him without thinking and hugged the old wizard in a warm and tight embrace— one he could not remember ever giving his own father.

"Oh thank Merlin you're alright. You are— alright, I mean?" Mr. Potter grabbed his adoptive son by the side of his arms and started checking his well-being.

"I am, yes, so is Remus, he's over there." Sirius couldn't help but smile weakly from having the support and peaceful reassurance of a trusted adult.

Fleamont looked back to find Remus speaking with Frank, healthy and safe.

"Good, good." He said.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked.

Fleamont seemed to try to situate himself. "Albus he hum, he called for me and some other parents, unsure how long this would take, to bring some resources, food, warm clothes, things of the sort…" He looked around again.

"Do we know anything of who could have done this yet?" Sirius was restless.

Fleamont looked at him and pulled him aside some steps, showing the importance of the topic.

"There's… speculation going about of a certain Rupert Vingardium. Do you know of him?" Fleamont tested.

"I remember that name…" Sirius said, looking down, searching his brain. "Prongs mentioned it a couple of times I think, he said something… something about—" Sirius looked u in wide realization. "You testified. In his father's trial"

Mr. Potter nodded, showing his piled up tension. "Vingardium Senior has been recently tried and convicted to Azkaban for unlawful practices and testing, trying to prove that Muggle-borns are deficient of certain biological characteristics. His most recent experiences revolved around the idea that animals had heightened senses that would attack prominently certain wizards, proving his ridiculous hypothesis. Unfortunately the Ministry only took any action when a so-called 'pure-blood'" he scoffed, using air quotes at the title, "got seriously injured when trying to test this idea. Oddly enough when many muggles and even muggle-borns had raised their concerns, nothing happened."

Sirius tensed his jaw, understanding the hint of prejudiced corruption.

"I was invited by my good friend to testify against such maddening ideas, telling how, when creating our trusted and well-known hair potion many years ago, time and time again experiments proved that there was absolutely no difference becoming from the wizard ancestry."

"Yes, Prongs made quite the uncanny impression of your speech when he told us." Sirius smiled at the memory but, looking at the worried look on the old wizard's face, it vanished.

"I know he is still inside Sirius, and I'm even almost certain why that is but… I cannot bear the thought that my son, naturally so prone to risk himself, could be in any more danger because of his righteous father."

Sirius swallowed hard. "I'm sure he's alright Mr. Potter, Prongs is the best of us all." His eyes started filling and he got frustrated for it, needing to be strong for the wizard that welcomed him with open arms and heart to his house and family, not the scared little boy he was acting out like now.

"I know son, I know" Mr. Potter quickly hugged Sirius back, comforting him with little pats on the back. "But I might need your help making sure he knows his papa is here for him" he finished whispering it to Sirius' ear which left him feeling uncertain.

They parted and once Fleamont looked up, he noticed someone behind Sirius. Sirius took notice and looked back to find what was that had caught Mr. Potter's attention.

His younger brother was standing close, awkwardly looking at the scene.

"Can I speak to you?" His voice came sounding younger than the fourteen years of age of the wizard.

Sirius looked at Mr. Potter who gave him an encouraging smile and a squeeze on the shoulder, and saw him walk closer to his brother before he took on a worried look on his face again, walking back to the crowd.

"I see you too run from snakes. Maybe there's still hope for you after all." Sirius told his brother, hiding his nerves.

"I see you're loyal to some families at least" was his response. "Just not yours."

Sirius rolled his eyes and was ready to leave just as soon as he arrived. "Alright, glad we talked" he started to head off.

"Potter's not with you" he called back.

Sirius turned again. "Quite the master of perception. I see why your little gang of death eaters keep you close by"

"D'you reckon he's with her?" Regulus asked with a stern voice, ignoring his older brother's comment.

This brought back Sirius' attention, freezing him in place.

"What you talking about?"

"Evans" Regulus cleared, "do you reckon he's with her right now?"

Sirius furrowed his brows, looking attentive. "Yeah, almost positive. Why?"

Regulus assented. "She's in the broom closet, second floor, not far from Transfiguration's class. I saw her get in there before I got out."

Sirius confusion and surprise was plastered on his look.

"Wha—W-why are you telling me this?" For the first time in a long time, his voice seemed genuine, like Regulus had not heard in what seemed a lifetime.

He pretended not to faze, shrugging his shoulders. "I dunno. Didn't you try to kill Snape awhile back?"

Sirius' expression changed. "How do you know that?"

Regulus grinned. "You just told me right now."

Sirius breathed through his nose annoyed but deep down, impressed. "Whatever. Why are you telling me this?"

He shrugged again. "Why did you try to kill Snape?"

Sirius breath caught and he found himself unable to respond.

"Exactly." He paused, giving no further explanations. "Just do whatever you want with that, I need to go." He finished, looking at the group of Slytherins where Mulciber and Crow had just joined.

Sirius was dumbstruck but before his brother could leave, he called out.

"Regulus?" He looked. "Thank you."

His brother assented before turning back again and heading to his own house.

As Sirius headed to the opposite side, he found Remus talking with Mr. Potter, looking unsure. Fleamont looked authoritative, explaining something to the Marauder. Sirius could not hear them but either way found it easy enough to quickly understand what the context was, more or less, as he had seen that same expression many a different times in only one other person - the wizard very own only son.


James could not hold it any longer. Lily looked weaker by the minute and he could not keep her awake no matter how hard he tried. After a quick look at the map, he found the corridor empty enough for him to try his luck— he had to.

Carefully taking Lily in his arms, map on his pocket and wand on the hand of the arm that was holding her legs up, he ventured opening the door of the broom closet that had been their saving grace for the last couple of hours.

It was deadly quiet and still, some snakes could be found but the ones that still lingered seemed like they were heading out, focusing on any opened window. James briefly thought that it looked like an army that had been ordered to retreat.

Lily's head was resting on his shoulder and every time he looked to his right to check his surroundings, his lips touched her forehead in reassurance.

As he reached the last step of the downstairs staircase, he tugged her in one last time for good measure and was about to follow the corridor when he felt someone coming in closer.

"Son."

A voice called and James turned quickly to his right just in time to see his own father, uncloaking himself.

"Dad!" he gasped.

Fleamont moved closer to hug him but stopped mid-way, acknowledging the precarious state of the girl in his son's arms.

"It's Lily, dad, she's not doing well."

Fleamont assented looking at her. Then turned to his son again, touching his face.

"What about you, are you hurt? Were you bitten?"

"No, I'm alright, I'm alright but, dad, what are you doing here?"

They both reacted to a sound coming closer.

"There's no time, we need to get you out of here."

Fleamont started to cover his son and Lily with his inherited invisibility cloak when James stopped.

"No dad, wait, I have a map on my back pocket. Take a look at it first to check if there's anyone coming"

Fleamont took a second to look suspiciously at his son and James offered weakly. "I'll explain later"

Mr. Potter found it and opened it quickly, scanning the map of the school away from the prying eyes of his son. For a split second, his breath got caught and his eyes looked away beyond the map, thinking fast on a decision.

"What?" James whispered to his father.

"Right," he said decidedly, "now listen to me, son. For once in your life, I need you to do just as I say, no questions."

He put the map back to his son's pocket.

"Dad you're scaring me."

"Good, you could use a little scaring." He said in a frenzy with the cloak again but pausing suddenly to look at James. "She's dying son" and James trembled, looking wide eyed to his father. "She is. Fast. But she can still make it because of you. You brave, brilliant boy."

"Dad" James said, his fear increasing.

"I love you, OK? Now, let's go." He kissed his son on the forehead. "I'll be right behind you."

Fleamont covered his son with the cloak and pushed his shoulders towards the hidden passage that Sirius had told him about when he gave him the cloak back.

James looked back at his father reticent but, even invisible, Fleamont knew his son well.

"Go" he mouthed. "They smell you"

In that second, James saw what his father had probably seen on the map and more— a student was getting closer and, seeing the amount of the crawling animals that surrounded him following his every move, it was easy to understand that that was the person behind the attack. James clenched his jaw, seeing his father turn around to face the culprit and thought for a second what he could do to help. But finally, he consented in respecting his father wishes and did as he asked, walking steadily away toward the hidden door.

Fleamont Potter sensed when his son had done as he was told and had never felt prouder. A calm washed over him in relief.

"Who— what are you doing here?"

Rupert asked in shock, seeing one of his father's testimonies and responsible for his conviction.

"I'm here to talk to you. Rupert, right?"

"Vingardium" he spat back, accompanied by a number of rattlesnakes chanting.

"I know you're angry son, I know, but this is not the way."

"You don't know anything!" he shouted back and the snakes looked angrier by it but Fleamont ignored them and even walked closer.

"I know you had a sister" this seemed to take Rupert aback. "She struggled didn't she? No one knew what it was but you tried. You took her to a muggle hospital, to try and save her"

"They killed her! I…" he gasped, spiralling "I-I killed her…"

More snakes joined, even coming back up from the windows.

"You didn't." Mr Potter said with a steady voice. "No matter what your father might have told you, it was not your fault. It's not. We can fix this still, you and I."

Rupert was sobbing now, having dropped his wand and started to kneel on the floor. "It's too late… It's too late now, I'm already dead."

"It's not, Rupert, listen to me" Fleamont's voice showed the panic he was starting to feel for the safekeeping of the boy, seeing him more and more surrounded by the snakes.

Rupert had grabbed one of the rattlesnakes, holding it up in what looked like it could not possibly be a suggested manner, providing the animal with easy access to his neck. He was speaking parseltongue in between sobs when he stopped and, looking up to Fleamont, he whispered "I'm sorry"

In a second, the snake on the boy's hand shot up straight to his neck, making him scream in agony.

"No!" shouted Mr. Potter, moving to the boy's aid without a second thought.

He quickly drew out his wand and, at first, was doing good progress to separate the student from the avalanche of reptiles creeping on him but, once he himself got bitten, it was a matter of seconds to accept that it was a losing battle for both the two wizards.

To many, Rupert Vingardium would forever be remembered as a lunatic, to fewer ones, a praised death eater. But even in his last seconds of life, Fleamont Potter thought of Rupert Vingardium, the boy who would forever be linked to his own death, as his most simplest form— a child.