The Defence Against the Dark Arts office was thick with tension. After George and Fred finished their explanation, every eye turned to the cage where Scabbers lay, expressions ranging from shock to disbelief.
A few students shot Ron odd looks. Feeling the weight of their stares, Ron blurted out, "I've only had Scabbers for two years! Before that, he was Percy's pet—Percy had him for five years."
Immediately, everyone's gaze shifted to Percy Weasley, who had been sitting quietly at the back of the classroom since they'd arrived.
Percy glared daggers at his brother. He'd only learned yesterday from Douglas Holmes that Scabbers was actually a man in disguise. The thought had left him queasy for hours, and he'd sworn that his girlfriend must never, ever find out. Who'd have guessed that his own brother would out him right at the start of the day?
Worse yet, he was keenly aware that a whole crowd of professors and Ministry officials were almost certainly watching this unfold.
He cleared his throat. "Ahem, is everyone ready? I happen to know how to open this cage."
Harry nodded. "Of course. Thanks, Percy."
The group parted to make way. Percy straightened his robes, drew his wand, and strode toward the cage with as much dignity as he could muster.
George and Fred exchanged a muttered aside at the sight.
Lifting the cage, Percy couldn't help but shudder at the sight of Scabbers. Yesterday, Douglas had told him that Scabbers was no longer under the effects of the sleeping draught; the real reason he hadn't woken was the Nightmare Curse Douglas had set on the cage. For an ordinary animal, the curse would barely register—unless it was sleeping. But an Animagus, though physically an animal, was still human at heart, and the Nightmare Curse pressed down on him relentlessly.
Percy turned the cage door toward the floor and softly recited the incantation Douglas had taught him.
A flash of white light. Scabbers tumbled onto the floor, still not fully awake. If not for the twitching of his mouth and the faint, nightmare-induced squeaks, everyone might have thought he was already dead.
"Next—shall I do it, or...?"
Fred whipped out his wand, cutting him off. "Leave the rough work to me..."
George drew his own wand, grinning. "No, to us. I'm not missing out on this, brother."
Percy stepped back, holding the cage in one hand and his wand in the other, signaling them to proceed.
Harry and the others drew their wands as well, every muscle tensed.
The other students, who only knew the rat might be the long-dead Peter Pettigrew, didn't understand why Harry's group was so on edge. Still, seeing the sudden seriousness, they followed suit, wands at the ready.
Twin jets of blue light shot from Fred and George's wands. The magical surge jolted Scabbers awake. Instantly, his gray body writhed in panic, and then—another blinding flash.
Before their eyes, Scabbers seemed to sprout and stretch like a tree growing at unnatural speed—a head, then limbs, emerging from the trembling fur.
Where the rat had been now stood a very short, filthy man, barely taller than most of the younger students. Despite his dirt and matted hair, his pudgy frame was so robust that it was hard to believe he'd spent more than a decade in hiding.
A chorus of gasps swept through the room. Several students instinctively stumbled backward.
—
It wasn't just the Defence office in chaos. In the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor, a wave of astonished cries echoed as well.
Despite Douglas and Lupin's repeated assurances, seeing an illegal Animagus revealed before their own eyes was something else entirely.
Lupin looked uncharacteristically calm, one hand clamped firmly on Sirius's dog head.
The bound Snape stared at the mirror, puzzled by the sight of Peter.
Dumbledore studied the image, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, but his lips quirked in a curious remark, "The Weasleys really do feed their pets well. I remember he wasn't nearly this fat before."
He glanced meaningfully at Douglas.
A few others in the room exchanged looks—trust Dumbledore to focus on the most peculiar details.
—
Jolted from his nightmare, Peter Pettigrew gasped for breath, his pointed nose twitching. His beady, rodent-like green eyes darted around the room, taking in the sea of wands aimed squarely at him. Panic rose in his chest—he had the creeping sense that, during his enchanted sleep, he'd missed something crucial.
Directly opposite, Harry noticed Peter's gaze flicking again and again toward the classroom door. Harry quickly aimed his wand at Peter's heart, voice ringing out, "Mr. Pettigrew, don't move!"
At the sound of his name, Peter forced a greasy smile, about to step forward—until he saw Harry's wand fixed on his chest. Terror flashed across his face.
He knew this scene all too well. In his nightmares, he'd lost count of how many times James had leveled a wand at his chest, demanding to know why he'd betrayed them. Harry looked so much like his father that for a moment, Peter's mind spun with confusion.
"H-hi, Harry. I'm Peter—Peter Pettigrew. You look just like your father, exactly like him. I was a very good friend of James's..."
Hermione noticed Harry's arm start to drop and tugged at him, whispering urgently, "Ask what matters!"
Harry snapped his arm back up, took a steadying breath, and said, "Yes, you were very good friends—which is why he made you the Secret-Keeper for the Fidelius Charm."
Percy was taken aback—he'd expected a question, not a direct accusation.
The effect was immediate. Peter froze, panic written plain on his face.
He'd been asleep for days—what else had he missed? How did they even know about the Fidelius Charm?
His small eyes darted about, and as his silence stretched, a ripple of unease and suspicion spread across the students' faces. Desperate, Peter blurted out, "Harry... I—I don't know what you're talking about. Everyone knows the Secret-Keeper was Sirius Black.
He was Voldemort's most trusted servant—a traitor who betrayed Lily and James, who gave their whereabouts to Voldemort... Yes, that's right... that madman..."
Ron's face twisted with disgust. "If Black was the traitor, then why, after he was caught, did you fake your death and hide as a rat in my house for twelve years? I actually let you sleep in my bed... and in his bed..."
He jabbed a finger at Percy for emphasis—no way was he suffering this humiliation alone.
Percy's mouth twitched. Thanks for that, brother.
Peter forced another smile, seemingly unfazed by the wands pointed at him, his voice oozing with sickly sweetness, "You two, such kind children, such kind masters... I watched you grow up. I was your little rat, a good pet...
Percy, when you abandoned me, I was truly heartbroken. You were an excellent master—I saw all your secret efforts.
Ron, I stayed with you through so many nights, so many unspoken thoughts..."
George and Fred stepped forward in unison, cutting him off, their wands aimed at his head and chest.
"You'd better answer the question—why did you hide in our house for twelve years?"
"If Mum finds out, she'll have you in pieces..."
For the first time, Ron felt his twin brothers actually looked like proper big brothers. He shot them a grateful glance.
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