Still, I wished I'd been there for Tonks myself. It was, after all, my fault she was in this situation. The memory of her lifeless eyes staring blankly after the basilisk attack yesterday still haunted me, an uncomfortable ache tightening my chest.
In my hand, the metal cage swung lightly with each step. Inside, the disgusting rat was curled in the farthest corner, trembling and occasionally squeaking pathetically. I glared down at it, disgusted by its filthy fur and twitching whiskers.
Tonks hadn't asked about the cage yet, despite clearly noticing it. She was perhaps too mentally drained.
All I'd told her back in the common room was that we needed to see Dumbledore immediately, and she'd nodded quietly, accepting my vague explanation without protest. But as we walked, I saw her eyes flicking curiously towards the rat.
Finally, she cleared her throat. "Harry," she murmured softly, breaking the tense silence between us. "You mind telling me why exactly we're taking a disgusting rodent to the Headmaster's office at this early hour?"
I sighed, holding the cage a bit higher so we could both clearly see the rat inside. It shuddered, pressing itself deeper into the corner. "This," I explained coldly, my voice dripping with disdain, "is not just a rat. He's an Animagus wizard-one that's been hiding out as Ron Weasley's pet for years. Lyra and Lyna found him last night in Gryffindor tower."
Tonks stopped in her tracks, eyes widening. "Wait-seriously? An illegal Animagus? Hiding among the students?"
I nodded grimly. "Yeah, and we suspect he might have been involved in the recent attacks. He's likely the assassin that's been trying to kill me."
Tonks' face hardened instantly. "Bloody hell," she hissed sharply, leaning closer to peer into the cage with narrowed eyes. "And you have no idea who he is?"
"No clue," I admitted reluctantly, staring again at the rat, whose beady eyes darted around nervously. "But I plan on changing that immediately."
She nodded firmly. "Then let's hurry. If Dumbledore hasn't left for breakfast yet, we'll catch him easily."
Thankfully, Dumbledore was still in his office by the time Tonks and I made it past the gargoyle and climbed the moving staircase. The heavy oak door opened soundlessly as I pushed it, and the familiar sight of the cluttered office greeted me-shelves packed with books and trinkets, whirring devices that clicked and spun on their own, and Fawkes perched serenely near the tall window. The bird was enjoying the sunrise.
The old man looked up immediately. "Ah, hello there, Harry. And Nymphadora. I must admit, I wasn't expecting to see the two of you again quite so soon."
Beside me, Tonks stiffened, her shoulders rising sharply. "Don't call me Nymphadora," she mumbled, cheeks flushing faintly pink.
Dumbledore just smiled at her, the playful gleam in his gaze leaving no doubt he'd used the name on purpose.
I cleared my throat, deciding to save Tonks from further embarrassment. Lifting the cage in my hand, I stepped forward. "Nymphadora here-" I teased, smirking at Tonks's fresh pout, "caught us an intruder in Hogwarts, sir. I think he's been behind some of the assassination attempts on me."
We decided to go with the story that it was her who caught him and not my two maids. It made Lyra and Lyna stand out less, especially since Tonks was a trained Auror.
The twinkle vanished from Dumbledore's eyes instantly. The shift in his demeanor was so sudden it froze me in place. One second he looked like a kindly old man, the next he radiated raw authority and danger. His right hand slipped smoothly into his robe and drew out a wand unlike anything I'd ever seen. The wood was a pale, ancient white, faint lines carved along its length, and the air around it seemed heavier-charged with centuries of power.
It wasn't like Hermione's wand, or anyone else's I'd seen. Too bad I didn't have a wand of my own to compare it to.
"Whoa..." I muttered under my breath, instinctively backing a step away. "What the hell is that supposed to be?"
Dumbledore didn't answer. His face was grim now, no trace of the playful man who'd greeted us minutes ago. He flicked his wrist, and the cage dissolved into nothingness with a whisper of displaced air.
The rat tried to bolt instantly, claws scrabbling against the stone floor.
But the old man was faster. His strange wand slashed through the air, and a streak of light hit the rodent before it made it a foot. The impact was immediate-fur stretching, bones twisting grotesquely, limbs elongating as the animal shape melted away.
A shrill squeal warped into a human groan, and within seconds, a short, fat man was sprawled across the floor.
The stench hit first. He reeked worse than the animal form-unwashed body, stale sweat, piss, and fear all clinging to him. His greasy hair clung in strings to his blotchy face, and his watery eyes darted around wildly. His fingers were filthy, nails yellowed and cracked. He looked like a rat even in his true form-beady eyes, twitching movements, round belly that strained his tattered clothes.
Tonks gagged beside me. "Bloody hell..."
I wrinkled my nose, covering my mouth. "He smells like something that crawled out of a sewer."
Dumbledore's breath caught audibly. His knuckles whitened around the wand, and he whispered the name as if it was something foul. "Peter Pettigrew..."
The name meant nothing to me. I blinked in confusion, glancing between the old man and Tonks. From her face, she was just as clueless. Her brows furrowed, lips parting slightly as if she was trying to place the name but came up empty.
"Who the fuck is Peter Pettigrew?" I asked bluntly.
The man on the floor whimpered, curling in on himself like the rat he'd been. His watery eyes fixed on Dumbledore, lips trembling. "P-Professor... please... I-I can explain..."
Dumbledore's expression hardened, colder than I'd ever seen. His wand never wavered. "I should have known," he murmured, almost to himself. "All these years... alive... hiding in plain sight."
He flicked his gaze toward me and Tonks, his voice tight. "Peter Pettigrew was once a student here. He was... believed to have died more than a decade ago." Dumbledore's jaw clenched. "...Clearly we were wrong. And now we know who was it that tortured poor Ron Weasley's mind all these years as well..."
Pettigrew whimpered again, shaking his head rapidly, sweat rolling down his forehead. "N-no! Please! You don't understand-I didn't have a choice-"
Ugh, even his voice sounded gross.
"Silence," Dumbledore snapped. The word cracked like a whip, and Pettigrew's mouth slammed shut as if invisible hands had clamped it closed. The old man lowered his wand only slightly, enough to look at me again. His gaze was serious, cutting right through me. "Harry... This man was once a friend of your parents. One of your parents I mean. Well, he was a friend of Lily at the very least. But he was best friends with James Potter and Sirius Black."
My heart stuttered. "...What?"
Dumbledore nodded grimly, eyes never leaving mine. "I always thought that Sirius Black was the traitor, the one who sold out Lily and James to the dark lord. Now it seems my judgment has been wrong all of this time."
I stared at the pathetic, trembling man on the floor-the stinking, cowardly creature whimpering in fear-and tried to connect him to the enormity of what Dumbledore had just said.
This... rat of a man. This disgusting piece of filth. He'd betrayed HER? My blood roared in my ears. My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. "You're telling me," I said slowly, my voice shaking with fury, "that this piece of shit... this sewer rat... is the reason my mother Lily was murdered?"
Dumbledore's silence was all the answer I needed.
Tonks swore under her breath, her wand hand trembling slightly as she glared at Pettigrew. "I'm going to fucking kill him myself!"
Pettigrew squealed, trying to scuttle backward on his ass, his fat body quivering with terror. He looked more like vermin now than ever-eyes darting, teeth bared, sweat soaking his filthy clothes. Pettigrew groaned as he tried to crawl backward across the floor, eyes wide and darting like a trapped animal. "P-please-don't-don't let her hurt me!" he squealed, his voice nasally, shrill.
I wasn't going to let Tonks hurt him.
Not because I felt any mercy toward Pettigrew-hell no-but because I wanted to be the one to break him. I wanted to rip him limb from limb, to punish him myself for the pain he'd brought to Lily, for robbing me of the life I might've had. My fists clenched so tightly at my sides that I could feel the nails digging painfully into my palms.
But before either Tonks or I could act on our rage, Dumbledore stepped forward, positioning himself firmly between us and the cowardly, sobbing mess on the floor. "Harry," Dumbledore said sharply, his voice cutting through the haze of my fury. "I understand your anger-but killing him won't bring Lily back. Trust me when I say that vengeance stains the soul."
I almost laughed. He had no idea just how many people I'd already killed. Devils weren't exactly known for pacifism-I'd already piled up a body count that would horrify the kindly old Headmaster. But I held my tongue. Dumbledore was the kind of person who saw good everywhere-even when it wasn't there. He wouldn't understand the ruthless side of our race.
Dumbledore sighed deeply and turned back toward Pettigrew, his voice somber and heavy with authority. "Peter Pettigrew must face proper justice. He'll stand trial at the Ministry and answer for his crimes before the law."
I scoffed softly to myself. British Ministry justice-If it was so effective then why had Peter managed to escape notice for so long in the first place.
"Nymphadora," he said gently, turning toward Tonks. "Would you please send an immediate message to Amelia Bones? She'll ensure the Aurors secure Peter properly."
Tonks nodded stiffly. "Of course, sir."
But Pettigrew panicked instantly, squealing like the rat he was. "N-No! Please, Professor, don't do this! If they catch me, they'll give me the Dementor's Kiss for sure!" He crawled forward pathetically on his knees, sweaty hands outstretched in desperate begging. "I-I have information! Valuable information about Death Eaters! I can give you names-locations-anything!" He looked utterly pathetic as he began rummaging through his filthy robes.
My muscles tightened reflexively-was this idiot about to pull a wand?
Pettigrew yanked a long, dark wand from inside his robes. I was about to strike him down with magic before Dumbledore spoke up again.
The second Dumbledore laid eyes on it, the Headmaster tensed visibly, his voice tight and sharp with shock. "That's Voldemort's wand!"
Voldemort's wand-the wand that had murdered Lily Potter.
And just like that, my world narrowed. All the rage and hate I felt toward Voldemort-toward Pettigrew-toward every bastard who had ever hurt me boiled over in an instant. The wand seemed to glow in Pettigrew's sweaty grip, pulsing with sickening dark magic.
Without even thinking-a fierce, focused jet of razor-sharp water slicing through the air faster than anyone could react.
"No!" Pettigrew shrieked as he saw it coming.
Too late.
My water blade sliced cleanly through the length of Voldemort's wand, the dark artifact instantly cleaved into two perfectly severed pieces. The moment it broke, a strange, blackish smoke curled up briefly from the snapped core, emitting a faint, tortured hiss before fading completely.
"What have you done?!" Pettigrew gasped in horror, frantically scrabbling at the ruined pieces. He stared at them helplessly, his pudgy face twisted in fear. "You-you've destroyed it! He'll kill me for this when he returns!"
I glared down at Pettigrew, a cold smirk curling across my lips. "Good," I growled softly, dangerously calm despite the fury swirling inside me. "If Voldemort ever crawls back from whatever hole he's hiding in, tell him Harry Sitri sends his regards."
Tonks stood frozen, staring at the shattered wand on the floor, shock and something like awe flickering in her tired eyes.
Finally, Dumbledore took a deep breath, gathering himself before speaking carefully, "What's done is done, Harry. Perhaps it's for the best that particular wand can never again be wielded." Dumbledore then paused for a moment before turning back to me, "Is there any other life-changing news you wanted to deliver to me this morning, Harry?"
"...I'm pretty sure Hagrid's new dog is actually Sirius Black, also an animagus."
"Of course it is..." Dumbledore just facepalmed at that-before he waved his wand and Peter's direction again.
Peter let out a squeak of fright as he was turned back into a rat.
Dumbledore conjured another steel cage and levitated the panicking rat inside it before locking it tight. "It's safer if he stays in Rat form until the authorities get here, because then he won't be able to use any magic to escape." Dumbledore explained to us.
I supposed that was a trade off of being able to turn yourself into an animal, you couldn't use magic while in an animal form. And just like that any thoughts I had of wanting to be an animagus myself started to disappear because that was a huge weakness!
...
"...Are you mad still?" Nymphadora asked softly as we stepped out of Dumbledore's office, leaving the old man alone with that disgusting rat locked securely in its cage.
I rubbed my temples, letting out an exhausted breath. "It took me shagging Lyra, Lyna, and Hermione all back-to-back just to calm down after what happened to you last night. Now I find out that disgusting little rat had a hand in my human mother's murder. So yeah, I'm fucking pissed again," I growled irritably.
Nymphadora flushed bright pink, stopping mid-step for a split second, her eyes widening before she quickly caught up again. An impish little smirk curved across her lips as she looked up at me, mischief lighting her gaze. "Oh? You had to fuck three beautiful women just to calm down after what happened to me?" She leaned slightly closer, her voice playful but teasing. "I didn't know you cared so much, Harry."
I rolled my eyes, glancing sideways at her and fighting the small smile that tugged insistently at my lips. "Of course I care," I said firmly, my voice quiet yet leaving no room for argument. "You're mine now, Nymphadora."
I meant that completely literally-her soul was quite literally mine now, after all, bound eternally through the Evil Piece I'd used to resurrect her. But as I looked at her, taking in her stunned expression and the soft blush spreading across her cheeks, I knew my words affected her in a very different way as well. She stuttered slightly, stumbling in place for a moment as her blush spread quickly, turning her entire face and even the tips of her ears a vibrant scarlet.
