Ron's shout instantly snapped everyone in the room out of their stupor. Everyone's first instinct was to look, alarmed, toward the professor — and only then did they notice Ron.
The black cat, rat still clamped in its jaws, suddenly spun around barely half a meter from the classroom door, slammed a paw down on the rat, pinning it firmly to the floor no matter how hard it struggled, then spat repeatedly, as if disgusted by the taste.
Ron lunged forward, meaning to grab it — but his body suddenly lifted off the ground entirely, floating in midair, arms and legs flailing in panic.
BANG!
The classroom door burst open, and Snape swept in, black robes billowing like some enormous bat, expression thunderous. His eyes flicked first to Harry, then locked, murderous, onto the rat pinned beneath the black cat's paw.
Every young wizard in the room felt their hearts leap into their throats — they'd swear this was the first time they'd ever seen Professor Snape look this furious.
"Professor Snape, what's happened?"
Charity Burbage hurried over — she certainly wasn't about to assume Snape had barged in just to cause trouble; there had to be a real reason behind it.
Snape said nothing, simply stepping half a pace to one side.
A moment later, a tall figure walked into the classroom — Dumbledore, with Professor Charles, who was supposed to be on leave, right behind him.
It was the first time any of them had ever seen an expression like this on Headmaster Dumbledore's face — his deep blue eyes carried a stern, barely restrained fury.
"Charles, you're certain it's him?"
"Positive."
Dumbledore drew a deep breath, and his stern expression softened at once. "All right, Charity, please continue the lesson — it was just a misunderstanding."
With that, he raised a hand, and the rat Scabbers flew straight into his grip.
Ron, still floating in midair, called out at once, "Headmaster, where are you taking Scabbers?"
"Oh, don't worry. He just needs to help us with a small experiment."
"Huh?"
Vincent spoke up. "Professor, bring Ron along too. I think he deserves to know." He paused, glancing toward Harry. "And Harry, as well."
Hermione shot her hand into the air, clearly eager to join too. Seeing that, Malfoy immediately copied her, raising his own hand as well.
Vincent ignored them both entirely — he wanted Ron and Harry specifically because this concerned them directly. What business did the other two have crowding in?
His gaze drifted to Patricia, seated beside Hermione. He hadn't seen her since that day at Hogsmeade — trapped in the world of the Lord of Mysteries ever since, it had been a good few months now.
"Hm?"
Something shifted in Vincent's expression — a faint, barely-there wisp of black smoke seemed to drift off of Patricia. What was that?
The next instant, the black smoke was gone entirely, as if it had never been there at all.
But Vincent was certain his eyes hadn't deceived him. Tch — and here I was just praising Grindelwald's competence. You're a relic of that old era yourself, aren't you — why not just settle down quietly with old Dumbledore instead of scheming up something big again?
"Very well."
Dumbledore gave a nod. "Harry and Ron, come along, then."
Harry hurried over at once. Ron waved his hands frantically. "Er... maybe let me down first? I can walk on my own."
Bang!
With a flick of Snape's wand, Ron dropped straight down, landing hard on his backside.
Rubbing his rear, he muttered to Harry, "Guess even your own godfather treats everyone else differently than he treats you..."
Before he could finish, he caught sight of Snape's venomous glare.
"..."
Ron scrambled to his feet, looking anxiously at Scabbers clutched in Dumbledore's hand. "Professor Charles, what's actually wrong with Scabbers?" he asked, hesitant. "You didn't come back so suddenly just... because of him, did you?"
Vincent smiled faintly. "You'll find out soon enough."
...
A few minutes later, in Dumbledore's headmaster's office.
Hogwarts's finest wizards had all gathered — Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Vincent, along with two small tagalongs: Harry and Ron.
As for the rat Scabbers, he'd once again been pinned beneath the little black cat's paw.
The cat sat with its head held high, looking thoroughly pleased with itself.
Hmph! Hmph!
I knew there was something off about that rat from our very first meeting! And look who had to step in to sort it out!
Professor McGonagall's expression was deeply conflicted — once the truth came out, she'd be the one hit hardest by it, because Peter had been a Gryffindor student himself, and the Order of Merlin he'd once received had stood as a point of pride for the entire House.
And now, to suddenly learn that Peter was the real Death Eater, the real traitor, the one truly responsible for Lily and James Potter's deaths — while Sirius Black, the man they'd shunned, condemned, and ignored for over a decade, had actually been the wrongfully accused one all along...
McGonagall was overwhelmed with regret, with guilt. Part of her wanted nothing more than to rush to Azkaban right now and pull Sirius out herself.
"Peter. Given everything, are you still going to keep this act up?"
Vincent said, flat. "Sirius already told me everything."
"Professor, his name is Scabbers."
"No. His name is Peter. Peter Pettigrew. Death Eater Peter!"
Snape, unable to hold back any longer, snapped his wand forward with a sharp command: "True form, revealed!"
A burst of blue-white light shot out, striking Scabbers. His small black body writhed violently, wracked by a dazzling flash of light.
The little black cat leapt back at once, letting out an indignant meow at Snape.
A few seconds later, the rat's head rapidly swelled into a human head, followed by limbs, and finally, his entire body — a short, portly man now lay sprawled where Scabbers had been just moments before.
He was short, with thin, unkempt, pale hair, a large bald patch across the top of his head — at a glance, he looked like nothing so much as an oversized, human-shaped rat.
He looked around at everyone, breathing hard, trembling all over.
Harry stared, stunned, instinctively glancing toward Ron, who'd been fretting over Scabbers just moments earlier. Ron's mouth hung open, his pupils blown wide, as if he'd just suffered the most devastating blow imaginable — like he might shatter into pieces at any second.
Scabbers had been his — his family's rat, passed down for years. No matter how much he complained about him on the surface, they'd lived together for over a decade; Ron had long since come to think of him as part of the family.
That was exactly why he'd slept with him every night, carried him everywhere in his pocket — and now, he was being told that little rat Scabbers had secretly been a short, fat, balding middle-aged man this whole time?!
No!!!
Harry found himself entirely sympathetic — in Ron's shoes, he'd probably be shattering too.
Still, what Harry was more curious about right now was — what did this man-turned-rat have to do with him? Why had Mr. Charles specifically asked Dumbledore to bring him along too?
Dumbledore raised a hand, stopping Snape's wand, and said, gentle. "It's been a long time, Peter. Care to explain what's going on here?"
Peter Pettigrew's beady, ratlike eyes darted around the room. "Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and..."
His eyes landed on Harry. "Harry. You look exactly like your father."
Harry froze. "You... you knew my father?"
"Of course. We were best friends. The very best!"
Snape said, dark, "Best friends — meaning, you betrayed them to Voldemort, and got them killed?"
"!!!"
Harry's whole body jolted, his eyes going wide — now he understood why he'd been brought along.
Even Ron, on the verge of falling apart, couldn't help himself, his gaze darting rapidly between Harry and "Scabbers," his heart lurching violently.
"No!"
Peter Pettigrew shrieked. "That was all Sirius! He's the one who went over to Vol— the Dark Lord's side, he's the one who got Lily and James killed, and he's been trying to kill me this whole time too!"
"I was so scared, that's why I turned into a rat — I've been hiding from him this whole time."
Dumbledore said, "But he's been locked away in Azkaban this whole time, hasn't he? So why have you kept hiding, all these years — hiding at the Weasleys', of all places?"
A wave of nausea crashed over Ron; he very nearly threw up on the spot.
To be continued…
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