HP: Redemption of The Platinum Boy

Chapter 45: Peter Pettigrew Caught in the Net

"How is this possible?" Cornelius Fudge stood up abruptly and bent down to examine the unconscious man.

His voice, previously filled with indignation, was now tinged with disbelief and uncertainty. He blinked rapidly, clearly bewildered. "He... wasn't he dead? Killed by Sirius Black? I saw that street with my own eyes, blown to pieces... only one finger left behind..."

Fudge turned to Draco, confusion etched across his face. "Boy, how did you find him?"

"As I said, Minister, this was merely speculation," Draco said, bowing politely to Fudge. "Call it intuition. I simply found this rat suspicious."

Draco would never reveal the existence of the precious Marauder's Map in his possession.

Magical artifacts of this caliber were absolutely forbidden in students' hands—they would certainly be confiscated.

"Where did you obtain this rat?" Professor Dumbledore asked Draco, getting straight to the point.

"He asked us for it, sir. The rat was actually Ron's pet. We just wanted to borrow it to play a prank on him or something... Then we ran into Draco on the way, got talking, and when the subject of its age came up, we suddenly realized something was off about it," Fred explained.

The two brothers had already rehearsed their story with Draco on the way over.

"How long has it lived?" A sharp glint flashed behind Professor Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles.

"It's been with our family for eleven years," George said simply.

The wizards present gasped, and Fudge exchanged urgent whispers with his Aurors.

Behind Draco, Harry—seemingly still preoccupied—asked the brothers, "When you went to our dormitory looking for the rat, did you happen to see a diary? I've recently lost one..."

"What would we want with your diary?" Fred said, patting him on the shoulder helplessly.

"We don't even bother writing in our own," George added, spreading his hands to indicate he couldn't help.

"Too stiff even to use as—" Fred began mischievously.

"Eleven years..." Fudge murmured, slumping back into his chair. "The timing matches perfectly."

He suddenly seemed to remember something and said to the Auror who had Peter Pettigrew bound securely, "Check his hands."

"A finger is missing," the Auror named Dawlish announced, raising Pettigrew's hand to show everyone present. On the walls of the Headmaster's office, the portraits of former Headmasters, after their initial shock, began exchanging looks and chattering in amazement.

Even Fawkes, the magnificent phoenix on his perch, gave a distressed trill, as if he'd witnessed something deeply offensive.

"I don't understand. If he's not dead, why hasn't he revealed himself? The Dark Lord has been gone for over a decade—why is he still hiding?" Fudge looked distressed and ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly, pulling out several strands.

"I think those answers can only come from him when he wakes," Professor Dumbledore said to Fudge. "Minister, desperate times call for desperate measures. I suggest using certain restricted potions to discover the truth as quickly as possible, before he can mount any defenses."

"Of course, of course," Fudge muttered. "Though Veritaserum is strictly controlled, the paperwork can be completed retroactively if the circumstances warrant it."

Dumbledore nodded and addressed one of the hooded Aurors. "Kingsley, would you please go to the dungeons and fetch Professor Snape? Ask him to bring a Wideye Potion and some Veritaserum." The Auror named Kingsley nodded and hurried out.

Before long, Professor Snape arrived, his black robes billowing behind him. He glanced at Peter Pettigrew, paused almost imperceptibly, but his expression remained unchanged. He pursed his lips, walked directly to the pale, greasy-looking man, pried open his jaw, and roughly poured both vials down his throat.

Professor Snape then turned, his expression displeased as he surveyed the students who had appeared in the Headmaster's office—his gaze lingering a moment longer on Harry—before addressing Dumbledore. "I believe what follows is unsuitable for students to witness. If there's nothing else, allow me to escort them out."

"Very well," Professor Dumbledore said mildly. "Let's do that."

"Professor Dumbledore, I have something extremely important to report to you in private," Harry finally spoke up, addressing the Headmaster.

"Then Harry stays, and the rest of you may leave. I believe Harry has earned the right to know the truth," Dumbledore said to Fudge, who nodded gravely.

Draco understood why Dumbledore had kept Harry behind. This was intimately connected to him, after all.

Peter Pettigrew had betrayed Harry's parents, yet Harry stood before this rat-man concerned only with the amazement of the transformation, completely unaware he was facing his parents' indirect murderer.

If someone had betrayed Draco's parents and caused their deaths, he would want to know the truth rather than live in ignorant misery.

The murderer of his father and mother stood right before him, yet Harry remained utterly bewildered and oblivious.

There was no greater tragedy than this.

In his previous life, Draco had cruelly mocked Harry for this very ignorance. Back then, Draco hadn't understood what it truly meant.

Looking back now, he felt only sorrow for Harry.

Why had no one ever told Harry what happened to his parents? Why did Dumbledore always seem so secretive about it?

Don't dismiss it with excuses about protecting a child's mental health. Harry wasn't the only one in the wizarding world who'd lost both parents in that war. Those other children knew why their parents had died.

Admittedly, they grieved, but afterward they carried on with memories and love for their parents. They might even inherit the beliefs their parents held and uphold what they'd stood for.

A life like Harry's—growing up unaware of how his parents died, knowing nothing about their friends, living like a child trapped in a glass cage by Dumbledore—was hardly a normal educational approach.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore, I don't know what you're playing at, but I won't let Harry continue living in this fog of uncertainty," Draco thought, glancing subtly at the pensive Headmaster.

"I must say, Mr. Malfoy and the Messrs. Weasley, you have displayed both wisdom and courage," Professor Dumbledore said with a smile, apparently unconcerned by Draco's scrutiny. "You should return to your dormitories and rest. That will be all for tonight."

This was Dumbledore's signature dismissal.

Draco gave Dumbledore and Fudge a polite bow and, together with the Weasley twins, followed Professor Snape out of the Headmaster's office.

Night had fallen completely, the sun vanished below the horizon. The torches lining the corridor walls flickered with soft, wavering light.

"Return to your dormitories immediately," Professor Snape commanded with a stern expression after seeing them down the spiral staircase. "The castle is no longer safe after dark."

"As for you, Mr. Malfoy, we'll have a proper conversation later," he added sharply to Draco before turning and striding back toward the Headmaster's office.

It seemed even someone as composed as Professor Snape couldn't resist his curiosity about what was unfolding in Dumbledore's office. He was so eager he didn't even have time to critique them further.

"Harry's lucky," George said enviously. "We'd like to know what happened too. It was our rat—we have a right to know!"

"I'm going to invent some kind of Extendable Ear..." Fred said through gritted teeth, "so we can eavesdrop even when we're not in the room."

"Excellent idea," Draco said. In his previous life, he remembered they had indeed invented exactly that.

"Listen, we need to find Ron and have a bit of fun with him—" Fred said with a mischievous grin.

"He still doesn't know his rat was actually a man in disguise!" George smacked his lips, savoring the thought.

"Just imagine his reaction when he finds out—his expression will be priceless." The brothers laughed heartily, apparently ready to tease Ron about this for the rest of his life. He'd shared a bed with a man who'd transformed into a rat for over a year.

"Go ahead. I want to wait a bit, until Harry comes out," Draco said calmly. The Weasley twins bid him farewell and ambled off toward Gryffindor Tower.

Draco stood by a window, gazing at the dark blue sky and the pitch-black Quidditch pitch, excitement welling up inside him.

The excitement wasn't for himself, but for Harry.

There was something Draco couldn't wait to tell him.

This boy, who'd suffered such abuse from Muggles, needed to know one crucial thing: he was never truly alone in the wizarding world.

Harry didn't have only the option of returning to his Muggle relatives. He could choose to live with a wizarding family. In that family, no one would lock him in a cupboard, and no one would confiscate his wand on a whim.

Someone was about to erase all the cruelty Harry had endured from his Muggle aunt and uncle.

To resolve all the problems troubling Harry in a fair, just, and legal manner.

Harry needed to know this immediately—especially after the shock of learning about Peter Pettigrew's betrayal of his parents—that he still had a godfather who was alive.

Since his rebirth, Draco had retraced his steps, gradually developing an unexpected sympathy for Harry. After discovering that the savior everyone spoke of had lived an unimaginably miserable first eleven years, Draco found it difficult to truly hate him. Even the immense resentment he'd harbored toward Harry in his previous life had slowly melted away with their time together.

Now, Draco was less likely to hate Harry and far more likely to worry about him.

Harry's lack of basic wizarding knowledge was alarming, and he hadn't developed proper magical habits. For example, he carelessly left his wand lying about, even using it as a throwing weapon rather than a tool for spellcasting. He possessed an incredibly valuable Invisibility Cloak, yet he left it scattered around instead of using it properly—he even wandered the corridors at night without wearing it. Most troubling of all, he readily trusted magical objects that appeared to possess sentience, which was simply too dangerous.

No wonder Professor Snape took issue with him. If people didn't know Harry came from a Muggle family, they'd think he was deliberately causing trouble. With a reliable adult wizard to guide him, he might behave far better and attract fewer misunderstandings and criticisms.

For young witches and wizards from Muggle families, the adult wizards who first took them to Diagon Alley served a mentor-like role. They were guides who explained all the rules and customs of the magical world to Muggle-born students.

Why had Dumbledore sent Hagrid to be Harry's guide? Hagrid was even less worldly than Harry himself.

Why not send someone more reliable—even Professor McGonagall?

Look what had happened. Thanks to the well-meaning but irresponsible Hagrid, Harry not only didn't understand the wizarding world thoroughly, but he'd also developed numerous misconceptions—at the very least, he didn't take certain dangers seriously enough.

It wasn't difficult to understand. Hagrid himself had some rather skewed ideas about the word "danger."

Now, Harry—who'd had no one to care for him, no one to teach him, no one to properly guide him—finally had a chance at a decent guardian.

His godfather, Sirius Black, came from a proper pure-blood family and should be able to guide Harry well into wizarding life, Draco thought with satisfaction.

After a considerable wait, the door reopened. Fudge rushed out, followed by the two Aurors who had Peter Pettigrew bound and Stunned.

"This is absolutely unbelievable," Fudge said to the Auror behind him, looking flustered. "Sirius Black is innocent... and we've kept him in Azkaban for eleven years! Merlin knows how many people will make a scandal of this. I need to return to the Ministry immediately and reopen the case! I hope they still have his wand—that would make things considerably simpler... Everything's in chaos!"

"On the bright side, Minister, you've just captured a fugitive Death Eater. That's quite an accomplishment," Kingsley said encouragingly.

"That's true," Fudge said, scratching his nose thoughtfully.

"What about the Chamber of Secrets, and Hagrid, the gamekeeper..." Dawlish began.

"We'll address that later," Fudge said, waving his hand vaguely. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. "Pettigrew is the priority right now! He might very well be the one orchestrating these attacks!"

A short while later, Harry emerged from the Headmaster's office alone. He looked unwell, his eyes red and swollen from crying.

Harry had just suffered a devastating emotional blow. He hadn't expected that Ron's Scabbers was actually his enemy. The truth was so shocking that even the diary incident seemed almost insignificant by comparison.

"Harry," Draco greeted him. "How are you holding up?"

Harry managed a weak smile, clearly lacking enthusiasm.

"I told Professor Dumbledore about the diary. I also told him the owner was Tom Marvolo Riddle. He looked extremely serious and said he'd investigate it. He said the diary was dangerous and that if it's ever found, it should be brought to him immediately."

"That's not what I'm asking about," Draco said with concern. "I'm asking about Pettigrew."

"He was a Death Eater, if you want to know," Harry said quietly, lowering his head as his eyes welled up again. He spoke softly, as if all his strength had been drained in Dumbledore's office. "I never imagined he would betray my parents. He was their friend, but he's the reason they died..."

"Congratulations," Draco said. "I'm pleased to hear it."

Harry finally looked up, his eyes red-rimmed, staring at Draco in shock. "I can't believe you'd say something like that! You're glad he's a traitor?"

"No," Draco said calmly.

"No, Harry. I'm congratulating you because you're finally going to have a loving family member."

"What do you mean?" Harry said, his face flushing. Draco could tell Harry was quite upset with him.

"Sirius Black. You've heard of him, haven't you? He's your godfather and your parents' best friend. Now that the truth is out, he was wrongly accused. I expect they'll exonerate him soon. After he's released from Azkaban, he'll naturally take responsibility for you—might even take you to live with him. You won't have to return to your Muggle relatives anymore," Draco said with a faint smile, watching Harry's expression carefully.

"My godfather? I have a godfather?" Harry's face gradually transformed.

He murmured, "Sirius Black?"

"Yes," Draco said confidently, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "He'll take care of you. He's an exceptionally powerful wizard."

That's how it had been in his previous life—even Death Eaters had feared Sirius, Draco thought.

"Draco! This is the best news I've ever heard!" Harry's eyes filled with tears of joy.

He moved to embrace Draco, but Draco warily stepped back and dodged.

"No, Harry, be a proper British wizard!" Draco said, looking alarmed before glancing away. "We should only show that kind of affection toward our owls and broomsticks!"

"I don't care! Come here!" Harry caught the struggling platinum-haired boy in a fierce hug, clapping him hard on the back. "Draco, thank you!"