Percy went to St. Mungo's to see his mother.
Mrs. Weasley still hadn't woken up. The poison she'd been hit with was giving the healers at St. Mungo's a real headache.
"George, how are you?" Percy asked.
The entire Weasley family was crowded into a single ward.
"I'm Fred," George said, still in the mood to joke. He looked like he was holding up fairly well.
"Right. If I hadn't just seen Fred outside, I might have believed you."
Percy smiled helplessly. At a time like this, and he was still joking.
"The good news is, I kept my ear," George said with a grin. "Honestly, I always felt like that ear was destined to disappear someday."
Charlie and Ron were hospitalized as well.
Out of the whole family, the only ones completely unscathed were Fred and Ginny. Bill had cracked his head open, but the healers had already taken care of it.
Percy noticed Ginny's short hair. She looked brisk and sharp. "I'm fine," Ginny said. "Just not used to it yet."
Charlie gave a self-mocking, bitter smile. "Looks like I'm fated to be tied to fire for the rest of my life."
He'd barely escaped a fire-breathing dragon, only to get scorched again by a car explosion.
By Charlie's reckoning, according to the fate theories of Muggles, fire was clearly something his destiny was allergic to.
Mr. Weasley had been summoned to the Ministry of Magic, so he wasn't there.
Ginny and Fred were looking after the others, and Percy asked about what had happened.
"Wait—giants?"
When Ginny mentioned giants, Percy's expression turned serious. "Are you sure a giant appeared?"
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, confused.
Percy stood up and said, "No giant corpse was found at the house."
That meant the giant had been moved.
But why would anyone do that?
His words made the others equally taken aback.
Ron asked, "You mean they took the giant's body with them?"
"That thing was massive. What could they possibly want it for?"
Exactly. There was no benefit to doing something like that.
Ron's question plunged Percy into thought.
"Where's Harry?" Percy asked, glancing around the room.
Harry wasn't at St. Mungo's.
Ron shut his mouth, and it was Ginny who spoke instead. "He went home."
"The Black family home?" Percy nodded. "Alright. I understand."
He got up and left. Ron complained, "You shouldn't have told him."
"Shut up, Ron," Ginny snapped. "Percy is our brother!"
"He's still on John's side," Ron muttered.
"John didn't do anything to you," Ginny shot back loudly. "Luna's on John's side too, and she even saved you!"
"When did Luna start siding with John?" Ron stared at her blankly.
Ginny said disdainfully, "Didn't you see how many protective charms her family has lying around?"
John had always been generous to his own people.
Watching his younger siblings argue, Charlie said in despair, rubbing his head, "Merlin's beard, just let me get one decent night's sleep."
George, on the other hand, watched them bicker with great interest.
Clearly, after spending some time doing sales, Ginny had become much more eloquent.
...
After visiting his family, Percy headed for the Silverhand Manor.
There, he saw John.
Fleur was there as well.
Not only that—Daphne, Malfoy, Astoria, Neville....
Everyone was present except Cedric.
He was probably somewhere inside an Egyptian pyramid right now.
"Percy, you've seen your family?" John was seated at the head of the table.
Percy walked over and took the seat to John's right.
"I learned a few things. A giant was killed, but the body is gone," Percy said, laying out what he knew.
John fell silent for a moment at that.
"This isn't that simple," John said. "This wasn't a straightforward attack."
Neville said in surprise, "Was Harry the target?"
"No," John shook his head. "This was an attack aimed at the Weasley family, and the objective was very clear."
He glanced at Percy, his voice heavy. "The goal was to wipe out the Weasleys. Harry and Sirius Black showing up was an accident. They were supposed to be spending the holiday at the old house."
Malfoy sneered. "Potter always manages to stick his head into danger."
"We still don't know what the ultimate objective is," John said, cutting off Malfoy's heartfelt declaration of devotion to Potter. "What we do know is that Voldemort has successfully found people willing to cooperate with him."
"Giants, banshees, and those artificially created Inferi."
"I need to investigate Muggle villages where there have been large numbers of deaths recently."
He continued, "All of these things may appear at Hogwarts in the future, so I need you to understand these creatures thoroughly."
"We will inevitably come face to face with Voldemort," John said in a low voice. "I hope all of you come out of it alive."
"Don't worry, John," Malfoy said with complete confidence. "He's just a defeated opponent. If that bunch from the Order of the Phoenix hadn't interfered, Voldemort would've been dead long ago."
Looking at how inflated he'd become, John turned to Neville and said, "Go. Slap him twice and knock some sense into him."
Neville did exactly that.
Malfoy nearly snapped his neck. His neck had really been through hell these days.
Fortunately, those slaps sobered Malfoy right up. He instantly turned into a well-behaved kid and didn't even need a second round.
That was Voldemort.
The Dark Lord.
What were you thinking—winning once and already getting carried away?
Kid, that kind of arrogance is dangerous.
Focus on getting stronger first.
Moreover, there was something John needed to finish before Voldemort appeared at Hogwarts.
He was considering entering the Order of the Phoenix for a second time.
Back then, he had kept a drop of Sirius's blood. If used properly, reentering the Order once more wasn't impossible.
The Order currently sheltered Sirius and his godson—on the condition that John could locate the Horcrux.
The soul fragments inside the Horcruxes had been taken away, the Sword of Marvolo had been destroyed, and he had lost his means of tracking them.
Even if Voldemort appeared at Hogwarts, without those incomplete soul fragments, Voldemort wouldn't truly die.
John pondered how he might obtain the Horcrux hidden in the Black family home.
An owl tried to fly in. A flash of snow-white passed by as the owl opened its beak and loosened its talons.
It seemed to be wondering where the letter it had been holding had gone.
Basil flew in and delivered the letter to John. It puffed out its chest proudly—this time, it hadn't slapped the owl, which made it very pleased with itself.
The little expression was impossible not to smile at.
Fleur beckoned Basil over with her finger. Basil turned its head away, but its body very honestly walked over anyway.
Rubbing that round little head, Fleur laughed. "You've spoiled this little cutie."
"It's always been like this," John shrugged, opening the letter.
His eyes skimmed over the contents of the letter, and the smile on his face gradually faded.
"What is it?"
Noticing the change, Daphne asked nervously, "What happened?"
"It's nothing," John said. "Just that our neighbor wants to make a deal with me."
John narrowed his eyes, his fingers tapping lightly against the tabletop.
"He wants to trade something I want for a bit of assistance."
John gave a soft chuckle. "No matter when it is, you can never underestimate the First King."
The others exchanged looks, none of them having expected Dumbledore to take the initiative and approach John with a deal.
And judging from John's words, whatever it was clearly mattered a great deal.
After everyone left, John walked into the study.
He pulled a book from the shelf.
As the pages flipped, one page bearing a painted portrait stopped.
The figure within the portrait began to move and was released by John.
A short man appeared, curled up in a corner, his entire body radiating terror.
John closed the book and looked at the man with a smile. "It's been a while since we last met. How's life been inside, Peter Pettigrew?"
Peter Pettigrew trembled uncontrollably. From the moment John captured him until now, nearly two years had passed.
In that lightless place, he'd endured the endless wailing of the Dementors next door.
His mind had all but collapsed. He'd even developed epileptic symptoms, his entire body convulsing.
John watched the man twitch on the floor like a dead dog, his eyes devoid of any pity.
There was only a bone-chilling coldness.
"I need you to answer a few questions for me, Peter Pettigrew."
He showed no mercy to the Order of the Phoenix's traitor as he casually took a seat.
"Everything you know about Voldemort."
Peter Pettigrew's trembling worsened, his sobs nearly choking him.
Unhurried, John pulled a tool pouch from the drawer.
He opened it to reveal various liquids sealed in reagent vials.
"You might not know this, but I'm an alchemist. I specialize in making people speak from the heart."
John took out a vial of Veritaserum and said cruelly, "Three drops is the standard dose. How about a hundred times that?"
Outside the study.
Wails pierced through the thick wooden door.
Screams and incessant pleas for mercy wove together into the final chapter of a traitor's life.
When John stepped out, he said casually to Tommy at his side, "Even his soul is filthy."
Through the half-open door, Tommy saw Peter Pettigrew sitting there in a daze.
Reagent bottles littered the floor—at least a dozen of them.
…
Some time passed after the attack on the Weasley family.
On an evening a few days after the New Year.
Harry stood tensely before the fireplace in the Black family home.
Unease spread into his palms. Sweat seeped out, and he wiped his hands hard against his trousers.
It felt as though a voice was whispering in his ear, telling him not to trust anyone, not even Dumbledore.
Harry kept Dumbledore's instructions firmly in mind and did his best to ignore the voice.
He was wearing an accessory—a golden locket.
Having lost the Burrow, Ron and Ginny had come over as well. The three of them lined up, preparing to step into the fireplace and head to Hogwarts.
~~~
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