Harry slowly walked toward his bed, hoping not to startle the creature he had previously called Scabbers, keeping an eye on it from the corner of his vision. The sudden revelation was correct but deeply unsettling for the first-year student.
Ron had somehow managed to bring a stranger into Hogwarts, hiding as a rat, right into their dormitory. Setting aside how he managed this, Harry grappled with another question—why?
Who in the world would want to spend their life as a rat instead of their human form? Running through the wildest assumptions, like perhaps it was another Weasley relative or Ron's beloved grandfather, Harry latched onto the most reasonable idea: someone hiding from the law. It made sense, but that would mean… a criminal was lying in Ron's bed?
A criminal in Ron's bed, among first-years, upperclassmen, professors, and, most importantly, Dumbledore—it was troubling. It suggested negligence from everyone at Hogwarts, supposedly the safest and most prestigious school in Europe.
Digging deeper, Harry remembered that Ron had inherited his "pet" from his older brother, Percy. This horrifyingly meant that the rat had lived with the bustling, magical Weasley family for several years. And no one had recognized an Animagus? This smacked of foolishness. Something didn't add up. A fleeting thought flashed by, escaping to the back of his mind before he could catch it!
Shaking his dark head, unconsciously drying it, Harry began reasoning from the start.
Scabbers had lived with the Weasleys for years. Longer than most magical rats, as he'd been with Percy since his first day at Hogwarts, five years ago. That meant he'd been with the family for at least six years, maybe more. From here, two lines of thought emerged: either the whole family was blind, deaf, and oblivious to not recognize an Animagus in their own home among their children, or—if this terrible truth held—the adults knew the secret of the Animagus rat. At least, the adults knew, if not the entire family.
But if Ron's parents recognized a potential criminal in the rat, why not inform the Aurors? Ron had mentioned his father worked at the Ministry! And Dumbledore was connected to the Wizengamot! This led to two puzzling theories.
The first: the Weasleys secretly harbored the Animagus because he was somehow connected to them by blood or other ties. But that idea quickly stalled. It was one thing to hide someone, but quite another to let a criminal pose as a family pet around their own children.
Nonsense, complete nonsense!
Few would agree to such a thing, especially for so many years.
The second theory felt paranoid and had a few unknowns, but at least it was logical.
Harry scratched his head, noting that something felt off with his hair, and dove deeper into this most unsafe theory. Who knew this criminal's identity for sure? Senior Weasleys and, at minimum, the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Perhaps in a close circle, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape might also know. After some thought, he dismissed the other professors.
Who else might know about the Animagus rat? The older Weasley brothers?
Perhaps.
Could that be why they distanced themselves from the family to avoid exposure? It seemed likely!
Once more, he thought—a fugitive criminal in the hands of children…
Another fleeting thought about the "pet" made Harry pause. A realization struck him yet again that early morning—this was, after all, the Magical World! You could force someone to swear any unbreakable oath, and that was it! You could leave them at home with a one-year-old child to change dirty diapers and bottle-feed, without fear.
Putting on his cloak, Harry reached for his wand on the nightstand, and suddenly, a brilliant idea hit him. This was it!
Sitting on Ron's blanket, the rat unsuspectingly cleaned its shabby fur when a Petrificus Totalus spell struck it. Its beady eyes, full of primal terror, stared at the dark-haired boy, James' son, who, like Nemesis, took it from the still-sleeping Ronald.
But as soon as he touched Scabbers, Harry felt a distinct dark resonance. A crucial memory surfaced, and his face twisted into a vengeful grin.
An Animagus, a rat—Peter Pettigrew!
Filled with joyful anticipation and inner confidence, he headed to the bathroom. Once inside, he closed the door, looked intently into the terrified rat's eyes, and, chuckling with enthusiasm, said:
"Well, well, well, who shall we hang today?" Then, suddenly serious, he commanded in a quiet but authoritative tone. "Listen to me carefully, my Death Eater, and obey my command!"
Seeing the rat's reluctant nod, Harry Potter, the Hero, the savior, and so on, continued:
"When Ron brings you to breakfast today, you will crawl onto the table. When I touch you like this"—he tugged the Petrified rat's tail with his fingers—"you will return to your human form and remain that way. Freeze and stay silent. Understood? Excellent…"
Placing Scabbers on the sink, Harry, with a mischievous smile and in a childlike, playful voice, said:
"And now, just for you… Crucio…"
Poppy Pomfrey was enjoying her first morning coffee and reading the latest issue of Witch Weekly, which detailed how Lady Narcissa Malfoy had thrown a grand ball at Malfoy Manor over the weekend for the twelfth birthday of her only, beloved son, Draco. The ball had invited representatives of prominent families (the list spanned two columns) and high-ranking officials from the Ministry of Magic, with the Minister himself promising to grace the celebration of his close friend, Lucius Malfoy.
Madam Pomfrey had worked as a mediwitch at Hogwarts for over forty years, and she had seen all these "prominent" and "high-ranking" individuals as crying, whining children hiding behind their mothers, and felt no respect for them.
It was interesting how age changed one's perspective—what once, in her youth, had seemed brilliant, unattainable, and desirable, now, as first impressions had faded and routine and tranquility set in, had taken on the familiar patina of everyday life.
Her light musings were interrupted by a gentle knock at the door.
"Yes, come in," she called, casting a quick glance as a first-year student entered the Hospital Wing. Setting her magazine aside, she observed the boy with renewed interest.
What she saw left her stunned.
The visitor was Harry Potter, but he wasn't the boy who had recently been brought in half-dead.
He looked healthy. No, not quite.
He looked VIBRANT.
___
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