CHAPTER 6: UNMASKING THE RAT
Seated across from Sirius, Harry cut to the chase. "So, what can I help you with?" Sirius inquired, ready for the impending discussion.
"I think you should get in contact with Dumbledore, see if he can pick up Pettigrew before news of your escape goes public," Harry explained, laying out his plan and hoping Sirius would be receptive.
"Do you think he would really help me?" Sirius asked, skepticism evident in his tone, uncertainty clouding his expression.
"Yeah, he's a pretty fair guy, though I would advise meeting him away from the school," Harry suggested after a moment's consideration.
Sirius, mulling over the idea, inquired, "How will I get in touch with him?"
"Patronus message him, have him meet you at the Hogs Head at eight. I'll go to watch your back," Harry volunteered, outlining the plan for Sirius.
"Alright, oh, good, dinner is ready," Sirius announced happily as a spread of food materialized on the table.
"What are we having?" Bellatrix inquired, entering the kitchen adorned in her new robes.
"Beef stew," Harry replied with enthusiasm.
"And dessert?" Bella pressed, taking a seat at the table.
"Treacle tart," Harry answered, serving Bellatrix a bowl of stew.
Sirius, ready to send his Patronus message, incanted, "Expecto Patronum," and watched his dog Patronus disappear through the wall.
"I want a wand," Bellatrix demanded abruptly.
"Why? You'll just go torment Muggles with it," Sirius remarked snidely as he filled his own bowl.
"I would not. I would torment you," Bellatrix retorted with a threatening tone before indulging in spoonfuls of stew. The kitchen, now filled with the aroma of hearty food and the banter of its occupants, became a makeshift sanctuary, a respite from the challenges and uncertainties that awaited them beyond the walls of Grimmauld Place.
"I have you a wand in my trunk, it's walnut and dragon heartstring," Harry disclosed with a mischievous smirk.
After the war, Harry had retained a few wands as trophies, including Draco Malfoy's hawthorn wand, Tom Riddle's yew wand, and Bellatrix Lestrange's walnut wand. The collection served as backups, although Bellatrix's wand never quite responded properly for Harry.
"That's what my old wand was made of," Bellatrix exclaimed excitedly.
"Technically, the one I have is your wand," Harry clarified with a grin.
"Why do you have it?" Bellatrix asked, her curiosity piqued as she took a bite of stew.
"It was kind of a trophy I took after the war, but that wand never responded well for me," Harry admitted, offering insight into the peculiar history of Bellatrix's wand.
The atmosphere shifted as a silvery Phoenix Patronus materialized and gracefully glided through the wall, landing in front of Sirius. The Patronus spoke with Dumbledore's distinctive voice, delivering a message.
"I will meet with you this evening; you have my word that I will come alone."
"Well, bugger, I guess I have to go see Dumbledore now," Sirius remarked, a tinge of worry clouding his expression.
"I will go with you," Harry assured him, a steadfast commitment evident in his voice. The trio, now bound by a shared journey and a growing sense of camaraderie, prepared to face the challenges that awaited them in the evening rendezvous with the venerable headmaster.
"What about me? You can't leave me here," Bellatrix protested, a hint of defiance in her tone.
"Can you stay quiet and not draw attention to us?" Harry inquired, fixing her with a pointed look.
"I am a Death Eater; I know how to stake a place out," Bellatrix retorted, sounding almost offended.
"Fine, I'm pretty sure your idea will work for this," Harry conceded after some contemplation.
"What idea?" Sirius asked, his attention shifting from his meal to the conversation at hand.
"She's going to disguise herself as Andromeda," Harry explained after finishing his dinner.
"As much as I hate to admit it, that will probably work," Sirius conceded, acknowledging the practicality of Bellatrix's proposed disguise.
"Of course, it will. Now what about my wand?" Bellatrix demanded, her impatience apparent as she completed her stew.
"Yeah, I'll get it, then we can head out," Harry confirmed, taking out his wand. With a flick, he summoned his trunk from the drawing room, watching as it floated down the stairs. Once the trunk arrived, he popped it open, revealing a hidden flap on the underside of the lid containing three wands. The trio prepared to embark on the evening's journey, each member with their own set of concerns and the shared determination to confront the challenges that lay ahead.
Harry extracted Bellatrix's wand from the display and handed it over to her. Bellatrix accepted it with a gasp, but her attention was immediately drawn to the bone-white wand in the adjacent slot.
"That's the Dark Lord's wand," she exclaimed, her eyes widening in awe.
"Yep, that one suits me just fine," Harry nonchalantly replied as he sealed the trunk shut.
Bellatrix scrutinized the wand in her hand, marveling at its familiarity. "This is truly my wand!" she exclaimed, her joy evident.
"I know," Harry said, his wand flicking casually at Bellatrix's hair. In an instant, her ebony locks transformed into a rich, dark brown.
"What did you do?" Bellatrix demanded, her hand instinctively reaching for her altered hair.
"Changed it to brown, like Andy's," Harry responded, efficiently shrinking his trunk and stowing it away in the pouch around his neck.
Sirius couldn't help but grumble, "You do look a lot like Andy."
"Well, I'm still prettier than her," Bellatrix retorted, a smug expression on her face.
"Sirius, you need a disguise too," Harry interjected, keen to divert the conversation.
"Yeah, got it covered," Sirius grinned before transforming into his dog form.
"My dad was right; I prefer you as a dog," Harry remarked, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.
"He is less annoying," Bellatrix added, seizing the opportunity to launch a stinging hex at Sirius as he attempted to lift his leg near her.
"Alright, let's get going," Harry said wearily, sensing the imminent escalation of antics.
As they exited the house, Harry couldn't help but think, 'These two have serious issues.' Nevertheless, he led them away, determined to face the challenges ahead.
The pub appeared just as grimy as Harry recalled, the stone floor obscured by layers of dirt and filth, almost resembling packed earth. Only the fireplace and a sparse scattering of oil lamps provided feeble illumination, casting dim light across the tables.
Guiding Bellatrix to a secluded spot in the shadows, Harry took a seat, Sirius trotting faithfully at their side. Raising his hand, Harry signaled the bartender, who ambled over with an air of indifference. "What can I get you?" he grunted.
"Two bottles of butterbeer," Harry replied, handing over four sickles without hesitation.
"That only comes to three sickles," the barman informed him before shuffling off to fetch their drinks.
"Why butterbeer?" Bellatrix inquired as the barman returned with the drinks, then retreated to his post behind the bar.
"This place is beyond filthy; I can't fathom drinking from a glass here. Butterbeer comes in sealed bottles," Harry explained, effortlessly popping the cork from his bottle and taking a hearty swig.
"Fair point. By the way, Dumbledore just arrived," Bellatrix mentioned casually, lifting her own bottle to her lips.
Harry turned his gaze toward the entrance and observed the headmaster making his way in, settling at a table not far from theirs. The air in the pub seemed to shift with Dumbledore's presence, a subtle undercurrent of tension weaving through the dimly lit atmosphere.
Sirius smoothly transitioned into his human form and approached the aged headmaster, settling into a seat directly across from Dumbledore.
"Good evening, Sirius. I must admit, I was surprised to receive a message from you," Dumbledore declared, his voice carrying enough volume for Harry to catch the conversation.
"Yes, I need your help to prove my innocence, and time is of the essence," Sirius confessed in a hurried manner, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore.
"And what is this proof exactly?" Dumbledore inquired calmly, studying Sirius with a measured gaze.
"The true betrayer of James—it was Pettigrew," Sirius responded earnestly, a sense of urgency evident in his voice.
"Peter Pettigrew is dead. You killed him the day you were captured," Dumbledore stated, his tone taking on a frosty edge.
"No, I didn't. He severed his finger, transformed into his Animagus form, and slinked into the sewer after causing an explosion to cover his escape," Sirius explained frantically, desperation coloring his words.
A heavy silence settled between them, the gravity of Sirius's revelation hanging in the air. The dimly lit pub seemed to quiet, as if anticipating Dumbledore's response to this unexpected twist in the tale.
"An Animagus? What form did he take?" Dumbledore inquired, his skepticism apparent in his tone.
"Yes, we were all Animagi, except for Remus. Peter's form was that of a common garden rat," Sirius explained, his voice steadier now.
"Even if I were inclined to entertain this belief, locating him would be an immensely challenging task, perhaps verging on the impossible. Do you realize the sheer number of rats in London alone?" Dumbledore questioned patiently, his expression grave.
"He's residing with the Weasleys. Their son Percy is keeping him as a pet," Sirius replied with a hint of revulsion evident in his features.
"How do you know this?" Dumbledore's alarm was palpable at Sirius's revelation.
"I can't disclose the details, but if he isn't apprehended before they announce my escape, he'll vanish," Sirius implored earnestly, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.
"Very well, I shall investigate this promptly. Arthur is an old friend of mine," Dumbledore declared, rising from his seat with a determined air.
"Can I accompany you?" Sirius asked, rising to his feet as well, a glimmer of hope evident in his eyes.
"Yes, but you must remain outside the boundaries of the Weasley's wards," Dumbledore instructed Sirius, leading him out of the pub.
"Should we follow him?" Bellatrix inquired, though her tone hinted at a lack of enthusiasm for the idea.
"Nope, I trust Dumbledore to handle this," Harry replied, rising from his seat.
"So, I guess we're heading back to Grimmauld?" Bellatrix questioned as she also stood up.
"Yep, had to get Sirius out of my hair for a bit. He was driving me mad," Harry confessed with a wry smile.
"Try growing up with him," Bellatrix muttered before swiftly spinning on the spot and Disapparating.
'If tonight goes well, maybe I will,' Harry thought with a grin as he Apparated back to their hideout, leaving behind the dimly lit pub and the impending investigation led by Dumbledore. The night held the promise of revelations, and Harry couldn't shake the sense that the pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place.
Albus materialized in front of the Weasley residence, his piercing blue eyes surveying the surroundings as he awaited Sirius's arrival. The unexpected Patronus message from Sirius Black earlier in the night had been a jolt to the venerable headmaster. Sirius had urgently requested a meeting, claiming a matter of great importance. Though tempted to delegate the task to Alastor Moody, Albus decided to personally hear Sirius out. If the information held truth, they might have uncovered the elusive spy within the Order.
With a small 'pop,' Sirius appeared, casting a quick glance around to orient himself. They materialized in the apple orchard on the east side of the Weasleys' property. The night was clear, the moon casting its luminous glow across the landscape, offering a far-reaching view.
"Wait here; I will be back shortly," Dumbledore instructed, his long, silver beard catching a glint from the moonlight. With measured steps, he moved toward the Weasley residence, his mind brimming with anticipation and the weight of potential revelations.
Receiving a nod of acknowledgment from Sirius, Dumbledore proceeded toward the back kitchen entrance and knocked crisply on the door. In less than a minute, the door swung open, revealing Arthur Weasley.
"Albus, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Arthur inquired, gesturing for Dumbledore to enter.
"There is a very serious matter I need to discuss with you. Does your son Percy have a pet rat?" Albus queried after casting a privacy charm over them.
"Yes, he found him around Christmas, and we let him keep the little fellow," Arthur replied, his expression now marked with confusion.
"Does the rat have any distinguishing features? Perhaps a missing toe?" Dumbledore pressed urgently.
"Yes, the first toe on his front paw," Arthur responded, his tone shifting to one of concern. The gravity of the situation began to settle over the kitchen as Dumbledore delved into the heart of the matter.
"I need you to get everyone downstairs, but don't mention anything about me near the rat. I fear he is very dangerous," Dumbledore instructed, his gaze locked with Arthur's.
Nodding understandingly, Arthur swiftly ascended the stairs to gather his wife and children. As Arthur hurriedly went about his task, Dumbledore found himself grappling with a maelstrom of emotions. Part of him had believed Sirius's account, but the logical side of his mind hadn't fully embraced the possibility. Dumbledore was confronted with the weight of his own prejudices, realizing that they had condemned an innocent man to Azkaban. Sirius hailed from a family deeply entrenched in the dark arts, and Dumbledore had, perhaps too readily, assumed that Sirius succumbed to the pressures of his family.
The humbling realization jolted Dumbledore from his contemplation as Molly descended the stairs, cradling a babe in each arm, followed by three small boys and, finally, Arthur shepherding a set of twins.
"That's all of us, Albus," Arthur reported, a worried expression etched across his face.
"Good, I'll go up now," Dumbledore replied, casting a disillusionment charm over himself to conceal his presence. As he ascended the stairs, he overheard Molly's inquisitive inquiry to Arthur, "What's going on?" However, the details of Arthur's response eluded him as he climbed higher, moving into the heart of the Weasley home.
Casting the Homenum Revelio spell, Albus discerned a human presence on the third floor. Silently, he ascended the stairs, moving with the grace and quietude born of years of magical mastery. Arthur's wise decision to leave the door ajar facilitated Dumbledore's entrance into the room, undetected.
The space revealed itself as a child's room, adorned with scattered toys and drawings proudly displayed on the walls. Dumbledore surveyed the scene before quickly locating his target—the rat, nestled peacefully within a cage on the bedside table. With a swift and practiced motion, Dumbledore cast a silent Stunning Spell to ensure the man's incapacitation before dispelling his own disillusionment charm.
The transformation was instantaneous. The air shimmered as Dumbledore's figure emerged from the concealed state, revealing himself in the softly lit room. The realization of the gravity of the situation settled over him, knowing that the rat held secrets that could potentially alter the course of events.
Gently, he extracted the rodent from its confinement, carefully placing it on the cold, stone floor. Albus brandished his wand, enunciating the intricate words of the animagus reversal incantation. A glimmer of trepidation shrouded him; a part of his mind dared to hope that the small creature wasn't, in fact, the infamous Peter Pettigrew.
As Albus observed the metamorphosis, a profound sadness washed over him. The nondescript brown rat underwent a miraculous transformation, revealing the portly figure of the blond man he believed had met a heroic demise the previous November.
"Expecto patronum," Albus uttered, his eyes following the graceful flight of his phoenix-shaped patronus as it soared away, a herald of the unfolding revelation to the vigilant Aurors.
A deep sigh escaped him as he levitated the unconscious man down the winding staircase. The weight of the situation pressed upon him, signaling the onset of a protracted and challenging night.
In the recesses of his contemplative mind, Albus acknowledged the impending necessity of a trial for Sirius. The thought lingered like a somber cloud, and he couldn't help but mull over the debts of justice that needed settling.
Harry emitted a low groan, the kind that resonated with the satisfaction of a deep stretch. His arms reached skyward, inadvertently jostling the ebony-maned beauty nestled beside him, her head finding a comfortable perch on his shoulder.
Despite his attempts to coax her into her own room, the allure of proximity had prevailed, and he'd capitulated to the allure of shared warmth. Sometimes, the simplicity of such moments outweighed the complexities of separation.
The night had passed without Sirius returning, and a seed of concern sprouted within Harry's mind. While confidence in Dumbledore's abilities persisted, the uncertainty of unforeseen events lingered.
"Good morning," Bella murmured, her voice carrying the remnants of sleep's embrace.
Harry responded absentmindedly, "Good morning, Bella." His thoughts were tethered to the absent figure of Sirius, a worry etched upon his features.
"You seem thoughtful this morning," Bella observed, her gaze keenly assessing the furrow in Harry's brow. The room, bathed in the gentle glow of morning light, became a backdrop to the unspoken concerns that hung in the air.
"I was just pondering if Sirius has made it back yet," Harry replied with a nonchalant shrug, the weight of concern evident in his eyes.
"Probably not. They'll hold him until he gets a trial," Bella remarked, rising from her comfortable spot with a languid grace.
"I'll have Kreacher fetch me a paper," Harry said, rising in tandem and making his way toward the loo.
As he relieved himself, the notion of a shower nudged its way into Harry's consciousness. Seizing the opportunity for a refreshing start, he barely stepped under the cascading water when Bellatrix strolled into the bathroom, a tune escaping her lips.
"Can I have a little privacy, Bella?" Harry called out, a tinge of exasperation coloring his voice.
"Sorry, I have to pee," Bellatrix responded innocently, dismissing the need for personal space.
Shaking his head in resignation, Harry returned to the task at hand, deciding it was too early in the morning to engage in a verbal spar with her. Just as he began to rinse the shampoo from his hair, the sliding glass door of the shower opened, and Bella's hands glided over his back.
"Don't hog the water, Harry," she whispered into his ear, the intimacy of the moment punctuated by the warm cascade of water around them.
In a state of mild stupor, Harry wordlessly acquiesced, trading places with Bellatrix so that she could bask in the warmth of the water. As he stood there, an enraptured spectator, he observed the liquid tendrils cascading over her form, tracing the curves of her silhouette. Harry found his resolve beginning to waver under the undeniable allure, acknowledging the magnetic pull he felt toward her.
"Do you enjoy sharing a shower with me?" Bellatrix inquired, a hint of mischief in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder, catching Harry in his captivated state.
Harry, caught in the enchantment of the moment, could only nod dumbly. A sultry smile crept across Bellatrix's lips as she turned around, stepping closer to him. Harry instinctively retreated until his back met the cool tile, yet she continued to bridge the distance between them. Soon, her chest pressed into his, and Harry could feel the intensity of his desire mirrored in the insistent throbbing between them.
"You can touch me all you want," Bellatrix purred into his ear, her voice sending a shiver down Harry's spine as the steamy confines of the shower enclosure became a canvas for the dance of temptation and desire.
Harry's throat went dry, words eluding him as his hands moved autonomously, drawing her closer by her hips, succumbing to the magnetic pull that seemed impossible to resist.
"All you have to do is ask," Bellatrix's breathy whisper hung in the steamy air, a tantalizing invitation that hovered between them before she withdrew, slipping back under the stream of water.
Harry contemplated taking her up on that provocative offer when an abrupt 'pop' resonated within the bathroom. In the next instant, Kreacher's shrill voice pierced the steamy atmosphere.
"Master Harry, the blood traitor is here to see you," Kreacher announced, interrupting the charged atmosphere and drawing Harry's attention away from the precipice of indulgence.
"Who, Sirius?" Harry inquired, his frustration barely contained at this unexpected intrusion that intercepted his impulsive desires.
"No, miss Andromeda," Kreacher clarified.
"I'll be right down," Harry responded, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. As he stepped out of the shower, relief flooded him at the absence of Kreacher in the bathroom, leaving behind a momentary reprieve from the tempting allure that had enveloped him moments before.
"Well, this could get interesting," Harry mused, contemplating the sudden arrival of Andromeda, a fresh twist in the fabric of events that unfolded within the house.
WELCOME TO LORDARESARCTURUSBLACK ON P.A.T.R.E.O.N
FOR EARLY ACCESS TO NEW CHAPTERS JOIN US ON P.A.T.R.E.O.N LORDARESARCTURUSBLACK