[ Location: Hogwarts - Gryffindor Boys' Dormitory ][ Date: November 13th, 1993 - Late Night ]
Harry and Ron were dead to the world.
I sat on my bed in the dark, tossing my wand in the air.
Over on his bed, Ron was snoring like a chainsaw, hugging his pillow with one arm and clutching his fat, shivering rat with the other.
'Time to take out the trash.'
'Telekinesis.'
I reached out with my mind and gently pried Ron's fingers open and the fat rat—Scabbers—squeaked as I lifted him straight up into the air.
I floated the rat across the room like a cow being abducted by a UFO.
Ron mumbled in his sleep.
His hand grasped at the empty space on his mattress, found a dirty gym sock, and cuddled it to his cheek with a happy sigh.
Shikamaru snorted quietly from the next bed, clearly awake and judging us all.
I waved my hand.
SSSHHH-RIP.
A tiny green portal ripped open in the air and I tossed the floating rat inside and stepped through after him, letting the rift snap shut before the noise could wake anyone up.
[ Location: The Upside Down - Mirror Creel House ][ Time: Frozen ]
The rat hit the toxic, ashy dirt with a soft thud.
Scabbers looked around at the violet lightning and dead vines.
He panicked instantly and tried to scurry into the fog.
'Gravity Well.'
I slammed an invisible weight right on top of him and the rat flattened against the dirt, pinned perfectly still.
"Magic needs balance, Peter," I said, walking slowly toward the pinned rodent. "Let's see how your little rat trick holds up against fifty Gs of raw gravity."
I dialed the pressure up.
The spell snapped.
The rat shrieked and its bones popped and stretched with sickening crunches and fur melted into pale, dirty skin.
Paws stretched into human hands.
In three seconds, the rat was gone and laying in the dirt was a short, balding, incredibly ugly man in ragged clothes.
Peter Pettigrew gasped for air, scrambling to his knees.
He looked around wildly, then locked his watery eyes on me.
His rat-brain saw a thirteen-year-old kid.
He puffed out his chest, trying to act tough.
"You don't know who you're messing with, boy!" Pettigrew sneered, showing his yellow teeth. "I serve the Dark Lord! Let me out of here, or he will feast on your—"
I rolled my eyes and snapped my fingers.
SCREEECH.
The ground shook.
My Fifty-Foot Basilisk uncoiled from the dead trees.
She slithered out of the fog, rearing her massive green head right behind Pettigrew.
She opened jaws big enough to swallow a car and hissed, dripping acid onto the dirt.
The temperature instantly dropped to freezing and a swarm of Sixty Dementors glided silently out of the shadows, surrounding him in a tight circle of rotting cloaks.
Pettigrew's tough-guy act vanished.
He looked at the giant mythical snake and the army of soul-sucking ghosts.
Then he looked back at me.
"Eep," Pettigrew squeaked.
He dropped flat on his face, completely sobbing, and crawled through the dirt toward my boots.
"Mercy! Have mercy!" Pettigrew wailed, tears streaming down his ugly face. "I was forced! The Dark Lord made me do it! I'm just a weak, pathetic rat! Please don't feed me to them!"
"Shut up," I said coldly, looking down at him with absolute disgust.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small glass vial.
[ Item: Veritaserum (Truth Serum). ]
"Open your mouth," I ordered.
Pettigrew clamped his hands over his lips, shaking his head frantically.
I used Telekinesis to force his jaw open and dropped three drops of the potion directly onto his tongue.
His eyes instantly glazed over, his sobbing stopped, His arms fell to his sides, and he slumped forward, staring blankly at the dirt.
"Perfect," I smirked.
I pulled out a magical audio recorder. "Let's get this on tape."
I pressed record.
"State your name."
"Peter Pettigrew," he answered in a dead, robotic voice.
"Did you betray Lily and James Potter to Voldemort in 1981?"
"Yes, I traded their lives to save my own."
"And when Sirius Black cornered you, what did you do?" I asked.
"I cast a blasting curse, killing twelve muggles," Pettigrew droned. "I cut off my own finger, transformed into a rat, and escaped and framed Sirius Black."
I hit stop on the recorder.
"Well, Peter," I smiled a sharp, cruel smile. "Time to come back from the dead and you have a meeting to catch."
[ Location: Headmaster's Office - Hogwarts ][ Date: November 14th, 1993 - Sunday Morning ]
Albus Dumbledore was rubbing his temples.
Sitting across from him was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.
Fudge was sweating through his suit, pacing the room and shouting.
"It's an absolute disaster, Albus!" Fudge panicked, waving his bowler hat. "The Daily Prophet is going to roast me! The Dementors went rogue at the Quidditch match! Harry Potter almost died!"
"I warned you, Cornelius," Dumbledore said calmly, though his blue eyes were hard. "Those creatures cannot be trusted and they do not care about boundaries."
"And worse!" Fudge shrieked, pulling at his own hair. "Forty of them are missing! The Azkaban guards did a headcount! Forty Dementors vanished into thin air over the stadium!"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "That's a big problem"
"They don't just die, Albus!" Fudge yelled, pacing faster. "They are immortal! The Aurors think someone kidnapped them! If the public finds out we lost control of our own guards and some dark wizard is collecting them..."
Dumbledore murmured, looking highly troubled. "That would require a wizard of terrifying, almost unnatural power..."
BAM.
I kicked the heavy oak doors to the office wide open.
Fudge jumped, dropping his hat.
Dumbledore stood up instantly, his hand darting to his wand.
I strolled into the office, looking completely relaxed.
I was dragging something heavy behind me by a thick magical rope.
"Morning, Headmaster" I said brightly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything"
"Mr. Frostwell!" Dumbledore frowned, looking at the rope in my hand. "What is the meaning of this? What are you dragging?"
"Just doing my duty," I grinned.
I yanked the rope hard.
A man tumbled into the center of the office.
He was tied up, gagged, and covered head-to-toe in toxic grey ash.
Fudge backed up against a desk, terrified. "Who is that?! A vagrant?!"
I snapped my fingers and the gag vanished.
Peter Pettigrew looked up, his eyes still slightly glazed from the truth serum.
Dumbledore froze.
The greatest wizard in the world stared at the balding, rat-faced man, his jaw actually dropping in pure shock.
"Peter?" Dumbledore whispered.
"Pettigrew?!" Fudge shrieked, his face turning pale as a ghost. "Impossible! He's dead! Sirius Black blew him up!"
"Wrong," I said, leaning casually against a bookshelf.
I tossed the audio recorder onto Dumbledore's desk. "Hit play."
Dumbledore tapped the device with his wand.
Pettigrew's emotionless voice filled the silent room.
"I betrayed Lily and James Potter and cut off my own finger, transformed into a rat, and escaped. I framed Sirius Black."
The recording clicked off.
The office was dead silent.
Even the portraits on the walls were staring down in shock.
Fudge looked like his brain was short-circuiting.
He opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish. "He... he was the traitor? Black... Black is innocent?"
"Spot on, Minister," I clapped my hands together. "Sirius Black spent twelve years in Azkaban for a crime this rat committed and you guys messed up big time."
I walked over to Dumbledore's desk and tapped my knuckles on the wood right in front of the sweating Minister.
"But let's talk business," I smirked, looking Fudge dead in the eye. "The Daily Prophet said there's a 10,000 Galleon bounty for resolving the Sirius Black case."
Fudge stared at me, totally bewildered. "You... you want the bounty?"
"I caught the real killer, solved a mass murder, and fixed your massive PR nightmare in one night," I stated, crossing my arms. "So yes, Cornelius. I want the bounty and expect that check in my Gringotts vault by Monday."
Fudge looked completely broken. "Ten... ten thousand Galleons..."
Dumbledore looked at Pettigrew trembling on the floor, then looked up at me.
His eyes were highly suspicious.
"Ten thousand Galleons is a steep price for a student to demand, Vivan," Dumbledore said softly. "How exactly did you find a man who has been perfectly hidden for twelve years?"
"I'm just really good at hide and seek, Professor," I winked, perfectly blocking his mind-reading attempts. "And I don't work for free."
I turned and walked to the door.
I walked out of the office whistling, leaving the Minister of Magic hyperventilating into his hat.
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