Chapter 38 - Hunting Time 2
Lunch at the Burrow was louder than anything I had ever experienced. Voices overlapped, chairs scraped, forks clattered and the table felt like it was vibrating with life. But my eyes kept drifting, scanning every corner. The legs of the table. The window ledges. The uneven floor. Any shadow that might hide a rat.
Nothing.
Not even a whisker.
That rat should be here. He should be somewhere in this house, lazing in a corner like the lazy, treacherous coward he is. But I don't sense that magic. I don't sense fear. I don't sense the disguised human soul I'm hunting.
So I decide to try a different approach, something more subtle.
I turn toward Ginny, who was silently nibbling her bread. She kept sneaking glances at me and then immediately pretending she wasn't. She looked small, round-faced and bright-eyed. She looked soft in a way none of her brothers are.
I smiled at her, "You know, I have two brothers. But no sister."
Her spoon paused mid-air. A blush flooded up her neck almost instantly.
"So I'm seeing now," I stated lightly, "how cute a sister can be."
Ginny squeaked. Actually squeaked. Her whole face went red like a tomato.
Ron groaned, "Oh, Merlin…"
Fred leaned over the table, "Oi, Ginny, did you hear that?"
George mirrored him from the other side, "Arthur thinks you're cute."
Ginny hid behind her cup. Her eyes peeked over the rim in embarrassment and delight.
The twins chanted together, "Our Ginny is the best!"
Ginny made a wounded sound and kicked them both under the table. They yelped and pretended to fall off their chairs.
Everyone laughed, except Percy, who cleared his throat to hide that laugh
But Ginny was still pink and smiling, and that was good. That was what I need.
I leaned slightly forward, "So, Ginny, what toys do you play with?"
Ginny blinked, "Anything."
"Anything?" I repeated.
Fred jumped in, "She's the sister of six brothers. She plays whatever we shove into her hands."
George nodded, "She grew up flying and dodging Bludgers before she could walk."
Ginny crossed her arms, "I'm better than Ron on the broom."
Ron sputtered, "Oi! I'm good—"
"No," Percy declared calmly, "She is better."
Ron deflated immediately.
Ginny beamed with pride.
I looked between them. "But that's not good, is it?" I said gently, "She should have toys of her own. Pretty toys. Girls' toys."
The table went quiet.
The brothers exchanged glances. Molly hesitated. Even Ginny fidgeted.
I knew what the thing they don't want to say. The thing Ginny probably doesn't fully understand.
They can't afford it.
This house is full of life, but not full of money.
Ginny bit her lip and nodded shyly, "Maybe but it's okay."
So I sat straighter, "Don't worry. I'll get it. A gift from me."
Molly quickly shook her head in denial, "Arthur, dear, no. You don't need to buy anything. You being here is enough."
But I'm not stupid. And Molly knew I'm not stupid.
I smiled softly, "Aunt Molly, think of it as a brother giving a sister a gift. After all Percy gave all his notes to me."
Her eyes flicked to Ginny.
Ginny looked like someone just offered her a unicorn. Hope glittered in her eyes so brightly it almost hurt to look at.
Aunt Molly sighed, "Well if it's just a small one."
I grinned, "It will be."
Ginny sat straighter. Her face glowed.
"So, what do you want, Ginny? Any toy? Any gift?"
She froze and looked at her brothers and at Molly. Then she looked at me. Her fingers twisted the hem of her jumper.
"What do you like?" I coaxed her.
Her voice was tiny, "I… I like cute things."
"Cute things?" I leaned in, "Like pets?"
Her eyes widened, "I love pets."
"Would you want one?" I asked softly.
The room went still for a moment.
Fred whistled, "She's going to explode."
George added, "She's always wanted her own."
I asked them, "Do you have any here?"
Ginny gulped, "We… don't have many pets. Except-"
Ron interrupted, "Percy. Percy is basically a house pet."
Percy sputtered, "Don't speak nonsense!"
Ginny giggled, "We have two pets. We have our owl, Errol."
George raised a finger grandly, "The most heroic, talented, extremely elderly owl in Britain."
Before he could finish, Fred shouted, "Do not forget the house ghoul."
Ginny, "We have Errol, and the other is Percy's rat, Scabbers."
My heart jumped as I finally heard of him.
I forced my expression to stay natural and tilted my head, "Scabbers? That's the rat's name?"
Ron nodded, "Yeah. Percy's rat. Scabbers."
Scabbers. Peter Pettigrew.
There you are.
I kept my face neutral, "But I haven't seen him anywhere."
Percy frowned, "He should be here. He always is."
Ron brightened suddenly, "Oh! I know where he likes to hide. I can get him."
My heart started beating hard.
I smiled gently, "Please, Ron. Could you show him to me? I have never seen a pet rat before."
"Sure!" Ron jumped up instantly and ran out of the kitchen like he had been waiting his whole life to be useful.
The moment he was gone, Ginny fidgeted again. I turned back to her with a soft smile, trying to keeping my voice warm.
"So, your gift, Ginny. What pet do you want?"
She blushed again, this time deeper. She looked down and traced a finger on the wooden table.
"I… want something cute. Like a kitten." She paused. "But we also need an owl."
She whispered that last sentence like it was forbidden knowledge.
But I heard it.
Of course I did.
I answered gently, "Don't worry. I'll get it."
Molly's spoon paused in mid-air. "Arthur, absolutely not. It was one gift-"
"It's alright, Aunt Molly," I said carefully, "Let one be my gift to Ginny. And the other can be my gift to Ron."
Percy frowned, "Why Ron?"
I shrugged, "He's the same age as my brothers. If Ginny gets a pet, Ron should get one too. To be fair. And an owl is useful for everyone, right?"
Ginny watched me like I had hung the moon. Ron wasn't even here and he was getting a gift. Fred and George looked at each other with raised brows.
Molly looked torn, but she was also touched. Deeply touched. She placed a hand over her heart. "Arthur, that's… that's very sweet."
The door opened with a bang.
Ron charged back into the kitchen, breathless and triumphant, holding a rat by its tail.
The rat looked miserable. It was fat, scruffy and old. His whiskers drooped like wet strings. He seemed half asleep and half dead… but alive enough.
"Got 'im!"
Scabbers dangled there, limp and annoyed.
"There," Ron showed proudly, "See? This is Scabbers."
I looked at the rat and reached out, "May I hold him?"
Ron handed him over without hesitation.
I took him gently from Ron's hands. The rat landed in my hands with a soft, squishy weight. His fur was rough.
"He looks very old."
Ron nodded, "Yeah, he is. Eight or nine years now. Mum says normal rats only live three to four years."
Eight or nine years.
Exactly when Peter Pettigrew disappeared.
Exactly when the Potters died.
Exactly when Sirius was framed.
I cradled the rat in my hand, running a finger along his spine. I turned him gently and checked his forepaw casually. He was missing a toe.
There it is. The absolute confirmation. The unmistakable injury.
Peter Pettigrew.
The traitor who betrayed Harry's parents, the Potters. The worm who hid while an innocent man rotted in Azkaban.
He was now in my hands.
He stared at me with beady eyes. I stared back.
Everyone was talking. Ginny was telling that he did sometimes bites, the twins teased Ron, Aunt Molly telling me not to hold him too tight, but their voices blurred into distant noise.
Now I just had to take him. But that was the problem.
I have to take him and deliver him to the right people. I have to do it without alarming the Weasleys and without raising suspicion.
Specially without alerting Pettigrew himself and letting him escape.
Ron leaned forward, "Isn't he cool?"
I smile serenely, "Yes. Very… interesting."
And I closed my hand around the rat, pretending to stroke him.
Pretending I'm just being friendly.
Pretending I'm not holding a living secret in my palm. A secret the entire wizarding world has forgotten. A secret I'm about to expose.
I kept smiling.
Because the hunt is almost over now.
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End of Chapter 38 - Hunting Time 2