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Night
Snape and Peter Pettigrew had themselves quite an eventful evening.
Whether Peter enjoyed it, Snape couldn't care less. All that mattered was he had a great time. Every punishment he'd fantasized about unleashing on idiotic students over the years—he used them on Pettigrew. Tenfold.
The next morning, when students saw him, several genuinely thought they were hallucinating—because the corners of Snape's mouth were ever so slightly… raised.
Was that… a smile?
Even the Slytherins exchanged looks. Other than when stripping points from the other Houses, none of them had ever seen Snape look so pleased.
"Yo, Professor. You're up early."
Tom, arriving for breakfast with Astoria, casually greeted him.
"Good manners. Taking the initiative to greet a professor," Snape nodded. "Slytherin, plus ten points."
Tom: "..."
What on earth happened to him last night?
"Professor, about those materials…" Tom tugged at Snape's sleeve, dropping a subtle hint. The old bat had dodged the topic all of last night. Tom wasn't about to let him pretend it never happened—he needed a clear answer. Either forgive him for taking them or demand compensation.
"What materials? Don't waste my time," Snape muttered. "Dumbledore's handing Pettigrew over to Fudge soon. I need to seize the moment."
You need energy before work. Snape was here to replenish his. As for the materials Tom had "borrowed," he'd just chalk it up as a Head of House supporting an outstanding student.
The only thing he regretted was that if Tom had handed Pettigrew over to him personally, Snape would've created a new 69 Potion just for him, much better than any blue pill in existence.
Watching Snape hurry into the Great Hall, Tom opened his mouth in huge surprise.
So Pettigrew ended up in Snape's hands?
He could already imagine how "joyful" Peter's night must've been.
...
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor common room, Ron and Harry—who had been out cold all night—blocked Ginny's way with outrage.
"Ginny, pranks have limits," Ron snapped. "If Neville hadn't dragged us back, we would've spent the night on the floor!"
"And give Scabbers back!" Ron scowled. "He's my pet, not your toy!"
Harry looked just as annoyed. The Ginny he'd met at the Burrow over the summer was a shy, timid girl. When did she start pulling stunts like this?
This kind of move had "Tom Riddle" written all over it.
But he hadn't even done anything to Tom recently! If Tom wanted to mess with someone, fine—go after Ron. Why drag him into it?
Ron suddenly sneezed violently. Ginny deftly sidestepped, face full of disgust.
"Ron, you just sprayed snot on the wall. Gross."
Ron flushed but gritted his teeth. "Ginny, give Scabbers back or I'm telling Mum. She's already mad as it is."
At that, Ginny's face darkened. These idiotic brothers of hers had actually tattled to their mum, and she'd gotten a scolding for it. Finding a boyfriend wasn't the issue—even finding a Slytherin boyfriend wasn't the issue.
But at her age, and with a Slytherin boy who had a messy love life? Now that was apparently catastrophic.
The moment she saw her mum's letter—those harsh, furious words—she panicked. She read it once, then set it on fire and burned it to ash.
No letter, no problem.
"Scabbers isn't coming back." Ginny gave Ron a sympathetic look. Poor guy was still blissfully ignorant.
Ron was truly doomed this time.
Last night Tom had already given her the rundown, completely satisfying her craving for drama—and shocking her just as much.
Sirius Black, the one everyone believed to be a murderer, was actually innocent. And the one awarded the First Class Order of Merlin… was the real traitor.
Did the Ministry not bother investigating anything before throwing people into Azkaban?
And Black—what was he thinking? That this would count as atonement? Pettigrew wasn't even dead. And even if he was—letting the traitor go free, turning him into a hero, and leaving Harry to grow up an orphan?
Atonement? More like making things worse.
As far as Ginny was concerned, Sirius Black had something wrong with his brain. After rotting in Azkaban for over a decade, he probably didn't have a brain anymore.
"What do you mean? What did you do to Scabbers?!" Ron jumped, panic rising.
That rat had been his only companion for years!
"Forget it. I'll just take you to Tom," Ginny said. Explaining it herself was too much trouble—and explaining to Ron's pea-sized brain was even worse. Let Tom handle it.
Proof of human nature: always pass the problem to someone else.
Ginny dumped the issue on Tom.
"..." Tom, confused, brought Harry and Ron straight to the Headmaster's office.
Luckily, Dumbledore looked in good spirits and greeted them warmly.
"Harry, Ron. I didn't expect Tom to bring you as well—though perhaps it's for the best. As those involved, you have a right to know."
"Involved?!" Ron was shaking. "Professor, I just want my rat back… I didn't do anything wrong."
"I'm sorry…" Dumbledore sighed softly. "Your pet, Scabbers, is gone. You'll be able to see him… one last time."
"This is what happened."
Patiently, Dumbledore recounted the truth: Scabbers' real identity, Pettigrew's betrayal, and his connection to Harry—skipping only the prophecy.
When he finished, both Harry and Ron were stunned silent—but their reactions were entirely different.
"My rat… is a grown man?"
"My parents… died because their friend sold them out?"
"No way!" Ron shouted, panicking. "Scabbers is just an old rat! How could he be an Animagus? He's been in my house for eleven years!"
"He's with Professor Snape," Dumbledore said calmly, unbothered by Ron's breakdown. "Professor Snape will bring him shortly."
"Speaking of which… Tom." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with interest. "How did you discover Scabbers was an Animagus?"
He'd wanted to ask yesterday, but Snape had been in no mood for conversation.
"Because of this map."
Tom set the Marauder's Map on the desk, flicked it open without hesitation, and zoomed in on the Potions Office. Snape's name and Peter Pettigrew's were very close together.
"Hagrid had told me a lot about Harry's father and, slipped up, mentioned this grudge. With the map, my curiosity just took over," Tom said, sounding reasonable and certain. Hagrid's reputation for loose lips made the explanation especially believable. If Hagrid was the source, even Dumbledore would accept it.
There was only one weak point in the story.
"I finally see why James and his lot were never caught," Dumbledore murmured, head bowed over the map, admiring the inked lines. "It's clearly their handiwork. The Black family's name-magic, Potter's tracking spells. Brilliant. Remarkable work for schoolboys."
Halfway through, Dumbledore's face clouded with a brief sadness. He sighed and changed tack. "Tom, you haven't had this map long, have you?"
"No." Tom nodded. "Ginny gave it to me. Fred and George had it before that."
"Fred and George?" Ron jumped. "They never said they had something like that!"
If they'd had the map last year, he and Harry wouldn't have been caught sneaking around at night.
"Ron," Harry sighed, "you're looking at this the wrong way. The real question isn't why Fred and George had the Marauder's Map. You should be wondering how they never noticed anything odd about Scabbers."
Ron went blank. Then his face crumpled.
So Fred and George never used the map to check on him?
Tom glanced at Harry, half-suspecting the Boy Who Lived was enjoying stabbing at Ron's feelings on purpose. No wonder the Sorting Hat had nearly put him in Slytherin—he had a knack for being cruel without trying.
Ron was sunk. For a moment he didn't know whether to be more shocked that his rat had been a man or more hurt that his brothers had treated him like he didn't exist.
The room fell into an awkward silence.
Tom noticed Snape had already taken Peter away and turned back to Dumbledore. "Professor, I've got class, so I'll take my leave."
He hadn't handed Peter over for justice's sake. He'd handed him to Snape so Snape could be shown who his true enemy was and settle old accounts. After that, Tom didn't intend to be involved.
Not long after Tom left, Snape brought Peter into the headmaster's office.
Seeing Harry and Ron, whatever faint smile had been left on Snape's face vanished. In front of them he forced Peter to shift back into human form.
Hatred burned in Harry's eyes.
Ron went pale.
So this grotesque, cowardly, bloated creature had slept with his parents? With him? For years?
...
Peter's gaze was vacant. His clothes, already ragged, hung like strips of cloth. Through the fabric Harry and Ron could see whip marks and dried blood.
Dumbledore's eyelid twitched.
Handing Pettigrew to Fudge like this—someone unfamiliar might think Hogwarts had turned into an interrogation center. But seeing Snape so composed, Dumbledore held his tongue.
It wasn't long before Fudge arrived, sweating and flanked by a squad of Aurors. He'd received Dumbledore's letter early that morning and at first thought it a joke, but the message's gravity forced him to take it seriously. Dumbledore noticed immediately that the Minister hadn't brought that particular assistant with him, and inwardly felt relieved.
"Albus…" Fudge stammered, staring at Peter, panic rising in his voice. "What on earth is this?"
"Listen to it from the start." Dumbledore sent Snape a brief look.
Pettigrew was given another helping of Veritaserum. Fudge and his ten Aurors heard the whole story, clear and unambiguous.
Harry could no longer contain his rage. He lunged forward and beat Peter with fists and kicks. Nobody stopped him.
Fudge gaped. The Aurors were as stunned as everyone else.
After all, the Black family had ties to many old families; in their day they had been powerful and widely allied. If Sirius was innocent and the man the Ministry had celebrated as a hero was the real murderer, what had the Ministry been doing before sending people to Azkaban?
His first instinct was not to set things right or to clear Sirius's name. It was to suppress it. This was a grave scandal that could shatter the Ministry's credibility and—most crucially—damage Fudge's approval ratings. Like any politician, his popularity was everything. Lose it, and his position collapsed.
"Albus… this is… incredible." Fudge wiped his brow, babbling the same frantic questions: "Is Peter Pettigrew really the criminal? Could the Veritaserum be faulty? Severus—testimony from potion-induced confession can't be used as legal proof. We need further investigation."
Snape, for his part, did not object. He did not want the Ministry to reverse itself and set Sirius free. He preferred Sirius to remain condemned.
Dumbledore's eyes were heavy. He had expected Fudge's reaction and had already thought of a way to handle it.
He inclined his head, flattering. "Cornelius, the Ministry is fortunate to have such a cautious Minister."
"You agree with me?" Fudge brightened. He'd expected Dumbledore to argue.
"Of course. You are Minister. Only…" Dumbledore sighed. "Had the trial of Sirius been handled more cautiously, perhaps this tragedy would not have occurred. I'm old—my memory of who presided then is fading."
"Wasn't it Crouch…" Fudge started, then froze. A couple of seconds later his eyes lit up, and he had to swallow back an impulse to laugh out loud at the thought of mentioning it in public. His face reddened.
"Albus! We cannot delay this!" Fudge threw up his hands dramatically. "We must not let the guilty walk free. I will not tolerate evil. I stand against it with every breath!"
.
.
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