Chapter 19 That Rat!
The evening after he had presented Slytherin's Locket to the school, Gilderoy stopped in front of the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's Office. He held his right hand before the stone creature's eyes and flashed his Gryffindor and Slytherin rings. The Gargoyle quickly moved aside.
He took the moving staircase up to the office and barged in without knocking. The Headmaster, of course, knew he was there. The Wizard wasn't stupid, anytime his office Guardian moved, it told him who was entering and gave him plenty of time to prepare for his guest. Making them knock on the door as if he didn't know they were there was his passive-aggressive way of establishing dominance — he always waited several moments before calling for them to enter.
"Ah, Albus, I was hoping to catch you when you weren't busy," he said jovially, ignoring the stacks of paper on the old Wizard's desk and the slightly irritated look on the Wizard's face. "I thought I should warn you that Slytherin's Locket was a horcrux, just as the diary and Ravenclaw's Diadem. It appears that he never found Gryffindor's Sword, or that, too, would have been used."
The Headmaster sat back in his chair in surprise.
"That makes three horcruxes I've found, and I fear that there are still more. As I told you, I can still feel one, faintly, wandering the corridors on occasion. Do you suppose it's Hufflepuff's Cup?"
Actually, now that the Castle recognized him as Lord Slytherin and Lord Gryffindor he had complete access to the protective enchantments over the school. And the protective enchantments not only pinpointed Harry as carrying a very Dark Artefact — Voldewhore's Soul — they pointed out the there was a rat animagus in the Gryffindor Tower. There were also several minor Dark Artefacts scattered throughout the various Hogwarts Houses, but most were in the Slytherin Dungeons.
"My word!" exclaimed the old Wizard pretending surprise and astonishment.
"Yes, my feeling exactly. Just how many of these did he make? Counting the one I occasionally feel, which I am sure is Hufflepuff's Cup, and himself, that would be five. If he were using just the Founders' artefacts and he settled for his personal diary when he couldn't find the Sword, that would make sense. But what if he made more? The next most felicitous number is seven, after that is thirteen. I doubt thirteen as that would fracture him into too many pieces and I don't think he would remain sane if he had done that. Eleven is possible, of course, but it doesn't have quite the punch that thirteen does but that would still be almost a fifty-percent increase in soul pieces.
"I don't think he would use nine, because that would require three sets of three. He could do three things of the Founders, three of his own, and three of something else, but that would be chancy as it would require he know he could find all three sets of three before he started any one of them. And even then, nine might be too much for a soul to bear, and it could destroy him instead. A much better choice is seven. If I were interested in such things, well, then, that's what I would have chosen."
He paused and stared at the Headmaster. He had thought long and hard about this, before deciding to see if the old goat was willing to cooperate. Just how much was the plotter willing to share?
"Did he consult with anyone while he was at Hogwarts? It's obvious he knew about the horcruxes while still a student, as the diary and Moaning Myrtle demonstrate. And were there any personal items other than his diary that he might have invested as one of his horcruxes?"
The Headmaster stared back at him, the twinkle gone from his eyes. "He was quite close to one professor when he was here as a student. I fear, though, the man will refuse to tell us what he knows out of terror that Voldemort's followers might set out after him if it were to become known he had told others of Voldemort's secrets."
Gilderoy nodded. "That isn't a problem, I am quite skilled at getting reluctant Wizards and Witches to trust me enough to tell me things that they might not otherwise want to discuss." He smiled disarmingly at the Headmaster. "You locate Mr. Slughorn and let me convince the Wizard it is in his best interests to tell us what he knows." He practically exuded confidence and sincerity. "I am, after all, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, Hogwarts' Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, and Basilisk Slayer. If the professor can't trust me with his secret, who can he trust?"
The Professor stared at the Headmaster, eyes shining, teeth bright, his entire bearing radiating candour and honesty. And looking like a simpleton. But how had he known it was Slughorn the older Wizard had been talking about?
"Are there any other personal effects of Tom Riddle that he might have used besides the diary? A ring, a necklace, or even a favourite quill?" Would the old goat-shagger notice his slight emphasis on ring? Tom Riddle had had the Gaunt ring during his Seventh Year.
The old Wizard looked pensive and stared down at his desk. Slowly he shook his head. "No, not that I am aware of. I shall have to peruse my memories of him to see if I can spot any clues. That will take some time."
"Ah," Gilderoy said. "Well, before you go gallivanting off around the countryside, give me a call and I'll go with you. Back up is always a good idea. Besides, I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, Slayer of Basilisks, and Hogwarts beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. If I can't keep you safe, who can?"
Harry knew precisely what and where the next horcrux was — the Gaunt ring in Little Hangleton. He could retrieve it himself, but this would be a test. Was the Headmaster willing to work with others? Or did he still see himself as infallible? Would the Wizard stupidly attempt to retrieve the ring on his own, and ensure his death? If he hadn't learned yet that he needed to work with others, then maybe it would be better remove him from the playing field.
It was a harsh judgement, but Harry had learned that lesson the hard way in the war. No matter how loyal they were to the cause, it was better to cut someone out of the loop when their actions and secrets became too dangerous to others to trust. And if that meant consigning them to an early death by allowing them to do something fatally stupid, then so be it. No matter how much it hurt to watch it happen.
You just can't protect people from their own stupidity, no matter how smart or clever they were.
(◎_⊙)
Gilderoy walked into the Perth palliative care building and looked around. It had the feeling all such buildings did and reminded him of a hospital, which, in a way, it was. A few minutes later, he was meeting with the director of facility. Decked out in an obviously expensive grey conservative three-piece silk suit, Gilderoy just reeked of refinement and money.
The other stood as the Wizard came in the office, and they shook hands. "Thank you so much for seeing me so quickly, I know you must be a busy man," Lockhart said. Through that connection, he sent a silent imperio and the man's eyes glazed over. Gilderoy closed the door behind them and raised muffling charms that included only the two of them. Anyone listening via an electronic device would hear only a faint buzzing — unless the man was wearing one. He wasn't. Harry/Gilderoy checked.
"I need an old lady who has no kin and is expected to pass on soon," Gilderoy said. "Do any of your patients here fit that description?"
The man smiled, pleased to have the answer, "Yes, there are several, poor dears."
The Wizard handed the man a pocket watch. "When you open the watch, you'll see that there is a small disk inset into the cover. When such a woman passes on, remove that disk and step on it. I will come and claim the body as next of kin. Don't let the body leave here before I arrive. Keep the watch with you at all times until this happens. After that, keep the watch as a present from a relative pleased with the excellent service your establishment provides. When I leave, you will only remember that we discussed how my very ill Grandaunt was doing. You will act normally in all things, and, after stepping on the disk, you will amend the woman's file to reflect that you notified her nephew, here's the information." He handed the man an index card with the appropriate information. After that, you will forget I was ever here or what you did for me." The man listed on the card would have a vague recollection of the incident, completing the cover story should anyone try to backtrack it.
Gilderoy and the man spent a few minutes discussing the facilities, and how they dealt with the newly deceased, and then he left.
The Wizard could have conjured a corpse for his purposes, but the spells would eventually fail and reveal the masquerade. This way, all he had to do was alter the features of the corpse and those magics would remain stable until the corpse had decayed enough so that it no longer mattered.
Now all he could do was wait.
(⊙_◎)
It was April 30th, a Friday, six months since the message on the wall announced The Chamber of Secrets was "open." The Hogwarts student body had almost forgotten that incident, especially because both Colin Creevey and Mr. Filch's detestable cat, Mrs. Norris, were both now prowling the corridors with great joy, none the worse for their experience.
There were far more interesting things to discuss — Harry a Parselmouth and Draco's fall from power in the Slytherin House were just two topics of gossip. The students also debated just what Neville Longbottom found interesting enough about Luna Lovegood to be holding her hand. And in public, no less. And the Witches were all aghast that Hannah and Susan were both chasing Harry Potter and even had said that they were willing to share! And Hermione hadn't done anything to dissuade them yet! There was a betting pool run by the Twins on when she would declare enough and start hexing them (Gilderoy had placed a bet that all three would agree to share).
Gilderoy had taken one of Professor Snape's detentions assigned to Harry. While addressing the seeming endless supply of autograph requests he had touched on the subject of Witches, dating, and the fact that in the Wizarding World it wasn't unusual for Pure-blood Witches to share a husband in order to preserve a bloodline. Gilderoy managed to convince the little Wizard that Witches considered him quite the catch because of his bloodline and his Lordships. Hermione, of course, didn't care about those, but others would and he should just learn to accept it. As long as Hermione agreed and he genuinely enjoyed being around the other girls, he should just accept the situation for what it was. In time, he might find the idea less frightening than he did currently. If anything, that talk seemed to drive him closer to Hermione.
Yes, there were plenty of things to occupy their interest instead. Such as Gilderoy, their D.A.D.A. Professor, finding Ravenclaw's lost diadem, Slytherin's lost locket, and Gryffindor's lost sword, that he thwarted murder attempt by Dobby the house-elf, revealed that a Dark Artefact was trying to possess the Gryffindor Ginny Weasley, and discovered the lair of the Basilisk and killed it. The Weasley twins had set up a betting pool on when Gilderoy would announce his recovery of the next "lost" item, and what it would be.
And the biggest point of discussion during meals was that the end of term was only six weeks away! While the Fifth and Seventh Years looked at the coming OWL and NEWT deadlines in horror, the others were in eager anticipation of going home for the summer. For Gilderoy's classes, at least, he knew his students were well prepared — the Seventh-year students would easily pass, he knew, and all the rest were at least three months into next year's lessons!
Just as he did nearly every day, Lockhart strolled the aisles between the House Tables at dinner, looking for problems before they became problems. He looked magnificent in his mauve robes with their lavender trim. In his wake, he left sighing Witches and disgruntled Wizardfriends. If Harry would let him, Gilderoy could have bedded most of the Sixth and Seventh Year girls by now. Harry had made a deal, either the girls or more publicity. Gilderoy, of course, had chosen the publicity. So far, he was quite happy with the results. That the deal did not cover the female staff helped, Sinistra and McGonagall were surprisingly compliant — and flexible!
When he stopped behind Ron and frowned at him, the other students immediately noticed and a circle of quiet began to spread. He stared hard at the boy. It took a moment for Ron to notice Neville's frantic hand motions from across the table. Ron swallowed what he had in his mouth and very nervously slowly turned to look back and up at the Wizard behind him, as did Hermione, Harry, Susan, and Hannah seated beside him. The other Witches were also watching.
The Professor suddenly said, "Mr. Ronald Weasley, please bring out your pet rat." A simple detection spell as the boy walked by him this morning had confirmed he had his rat with him.
The boy gulped, but quickly complied, pulling the rat out of his pocket where he had just dropped a small chuck of chicken. The rat was happily nibbling at the morsel and it took the rodent a moment to notice he was the centre of attention. And the attention of one Professor in particular.
"Oh, boy, Lockhart is going to deduct points from Weasley this time. Bet how many he will remove," said a Seventh Year Hufflepuff loudly to another. The Gryffindors were looking unhappy at Ron losing them more points — he had lost them more points, so far, than anyone in their House, ever, even his twin brothers. The other Houses were watching the scene with amusement. McGonagall rushed around the end of the Headmaster's Table, trying to save her House points. The other professors watched quietly, wondering what had attracted the D.A.D.A. professor's attention. The Headmaster watched, eyes twinkling, perhaps hoping to see the professor make a fool of himself as he was supposed to be doing this year at Hogwarts. Which had not happened, yet, to the Headmaster's intense dismay. He also had the vague feeling that once more he was going to take a blow to his family jewels, figuratively speaking.
"Er, I was keeping him my pocket, sir," said the boy tremulously, "he wasn't on the table or anything. I'm not breaking any rules."
The rat, beginning to suspect something was wrong, began squirming in Ron's hand and dropped the chicken chunk. Ron covered the rat with his other hand to prevent his escape.
Smiling happily, Gilderoy placed his left hand in his pocket and gave a mild ennervate to the rat in his pocket. Then he casted a switching spell replacing the fake rat for the animagus He stunned the one in his pocket to keep it quiet and motionless. Nobody noticed the change in rats, although the one now in the boy's grasp wasn't squirming, still recovering from the stunner Gilderoy had hit him with that morning.
Lockhart beamed happily at the boy, his rat huddled in his hands but beginning to struggle as it woke up. The Wizard pulled out his wand and pointed it at the boy. McGonagall pulled her wand on seeing what Lockhart was doing. Gilderoy silently casted a blue coloured spell at a horrified Ron. McGonagall quickly disarmed Lockhart thinking he was attacking her student.
She found her eyes widening in horror as when the rat began to glow and change. Ron dropped his pet on the table in horror. The rat grew rapidly larger and knocked dishes and food to the floor. The students jumped to their feet, knocking their benches over as they scrambled to get away from whatever was happening on the Gryffindor table.
The Transfiguration Professor's mouth dropped open in shock as the rat transformed into a man, a Wizard, actually. And one she recognized easily, even if it had been eleven years since she last saw him. He, and his three friends, had been the mischievous bane of her existence for almost nine years before that. "But you're dead," was all she could squeak out.
"Er, uh," the man said, confused at the sudden change in his circumstances.
Harry and Hermione were learning from his classes Gilderoy was pleased to see. Both already had their wands out and pointed at the strange man. Lockhart deftly plucked the wand from Harry's hand and casted a stunner followed by a petrification spell on the animagus. The less the previously hidden Wizard said the better.
"Isn't this man Peter Pettigrew? Isn't he supposed to be dead?" he said in a clear, ringing voice that rang out over the Great Hall. "I think he is the one who saw to Mrs Norris' and Mr. Colin's petrifications, and the ugly scribble on the wall outside Myrtle's toilets about the Chamber of Secrets." None but the Weasley family knew that it had been Ginny, possessed by Voldewhore, who had done all that. And this would keep it so.
"And look," he added, a flick of Harry's wand removed the rat-faced man's left sleeve, revealing Voldewhore's Dark Mark on his arm. "He's a Death Eater." The students that could see gasped and rapidly spread word. No one remarked on his easy handling of someone else's wand, nor its ready acceptance of his actions.
Within moments Flitwick, Snape, and Dumbledore surrounded the bound Wizard. Gilderoy handed Harry back his wand, then retrieved his wand from a stunned McGonagall. He turned back to the shocked Harry. "Mr. Potter, that was an excellent show of reflexes, but you need better situational awareness as I took your wand from you far too easily." The boy blinked and slowly nodded, examining his wand as if looking for damage.
"Prefects, lead all the students to your common rooms," Dumbledore ordered. "Classes are cancelled for this morning and no student should be outside their Houses. Prefects, do a head count." The Headmaster quickly levitated the bound body and started to his office with the professors following him.
"Ah, Professor Vector," said Lockhart to his adjacent professor, "could I trouble you to floo-call the press, please? I believe Albus will take care of informing the D.M.L.E. of today's events. If he doesn't, you can remind him when you arrive there."
"Ah, Sure thing," said Professor Vector and dashed away towards the floo in her nearby office.
Lockhart leisurely exited the Great Hall and headed for his office on the First floor.
The other professors headed to the Headmaster's office. Gilderoy was whistling happily. His owl last night to Rita had said she should be ready for something very interesting to happen in Hogwarts at dinner today regarding a Wizard known as Peter Pettigrew, and to be waiting for a floo-call from the school.
It was amazing how a little preparation can make such a big difference. Rita came through his floo as soon as he called her. Everyone would think she arrived after Professor Vector's alert. Bozo followed her. If things were true to form, Lockhart could expect the Aurors to show up in fifteen or thirty minutes through the Headmaster's floo. Fools. They should always have a rapid response team on hand, much like a Muggle Fire Department, ready to fly at a moment's notice. He would pass that suggestion on to Madam Bones the next time he visited.
"Could you please tell us how you managed to find the supposedly dead, Order of Merlin Holder, Peter Pettigrew?" asked Rita Skeeter eagerly, after he briefed her on what had happened in the Great Hall.
"Well, Rita, I was really perturbed that somebody had the audacity to try to scare my students. In fact, I took it as a personal affront and devoted myself to the cause of finding and bringing to justice the criminal who petrified the noble Mrs. Norris, and then later, the First Year student Colin Creevey. You might remember that Mrs. Norris is the valuable feline companion of our own Mr. Filch. Mr. Filch is the caretaker of Hogwarts and Mrs. Norris is vital to the school's internal security, as most any student will tell you." The students' dislike of the cat was in direct proportion to how much trouble the cat created for them.
"So, I started carefully monitoring the students and other creatures that inhabit this grand institution. I found the activities of Mr. Ronald Weasley's pet very suspicious. The rat behaves in a manner that is just too intelligent for a rat. Plus, I found out that the Weasley's rat . . . ," Lockhart stopped speaking.
"And?" asked Rita in a hungrier voice.
"Well, you'll have to find it out in my next book, Restraining a Rat. Seriously, though, Peter Pettigrew, as a rat, was under Professor McGonagall's constant surveillance for at least the last five years." He stopped and shook his head sadly. "It's really a shame that she, a cat animagus, was unable to catch the Wizard, literally a rat.
"Although I suppose I can't really blame her. After all, Headmaster Dumbledore is far more powerful than she is, with far more experience in battling Dark Wizards. Not to mention that he controls Hogwarts' protective enchantments. And if he didn't notice the rat animagus, why should I expect her to? But she will be devastated, I am sure, and blame herself relentlessly. She is very protective of her young lions, don't you know?
"Even more amazing to me though, is that the Castle protective enchantments, which are supposed to be the best in the world and only allow Wizards accompanied by staff to cross them, are apparently incapable of detecting and stopping a wizard in animagus form. Why, any Dark Wizard could sneak into the Castle and do who knows how much harm to our children here without us being any the wiser until it is far too late. How can the Headmaster call Hogwarts the safest place in the world when this can happen? And let's not even mention the Troll or the possessed Professor Quirrell incidents from last year! I think it is high time Hogwarts' protective enchantments were given an independent and thorough inspection and upgrade, don't you?"
He stopped and gave a very theatrical and heavy sigh.
"I was sorry to learn the sad story of how the purportedly vile Sirius Black killed this man, Peter Pettigrew, both supposedly the best friends of James Potter, Harry Potter's father. I discovered all that in my research when I decided to mentor the young Wizard as I have this year. And then later, when I discovered I was Lord Black, I did more research. It never made any sense to me that someone who was such a close friend, as Sirius was to James Potter, would so suddenly and without remorse turn to the Dark Lord and betray his friend."
He had already told her about being Lord Black, but had promised an exclusive at a later date for her silence till then.
"But it now appears that Peter Pettigrew deceived everyone and framed his other best friend for the act. Very skilful indeed to set a trap for another that leaves everyone thinking the other Wizard is guilty of your dirty deed." He shook his head in wry admiration for the villain. "And I just know he was the one responsible for leaving that message about opening the Chamber of Secrets on the wall here at Hogwarts, and guiding the Basilisk into attacking Mr. Filch's cat and the student Mr. Creevey. Fortunately, I was able to nip that horrific plan in the bud before any other students came to harm, such as what happened to poor Myrtle Warren fifty years ago." He flashed her a confident smile.
"I am sure justice will be brought to the notorious Sirius Black, because unlike when he was first thrown in Azkaban, we are fortunate to have a great Minister of Magic, Mr. Fudge. And Mr. Fudge has shown himself to be strong and courageous, with a solid affinity to justice and righteousness. I am sure he will see to freeing Lord Black, personally." Especially now that there wasn't a Malfoy pumping galleons into his pockets to prevent that very action. That and Harry/Gilderoy's solicitors would be hounding him using as blackmail the bribery schemes they had uncovered involving the Wizard. And doing a bit of bribing themselves.
"After all, all it will take is the application of a little veritaserum to prove his innocence on the spot. And everyone should demand that prisoners receive veritaserum to prove their guilt before sending them to Azkaban. After all, innocent people have confessed to crimes in order to protect a loved one.
"But if the Ministry can pick up the Scion of an Ancient and Noble House such as Black and toss him in Azkaban without a trial, or even charging him with a crime, why, then what's to prevent them from doing the same to any of our children, or even ourselves?! With Sirius Black's precedent, they could simply pick you up, Rita, and toss you in Azkaban and no one could object! All they would have to say it that you belong in Azkaban for your crimes, such as being an illegal animagus, without ever verifying what those crimes might be, or even mentioning what the charges are!" He stopped and pretended to be reflecting on his statement.
"Right. Excuse me now, Rita, but I must now console the grieving Minerva about her failure. But let me say this to your readers, Rita, 'Parents, there is no need to fear for your children, because the great Gilderoy Lockhart is here. Your children are safe as long as I am here!'" And with that, Lockhart turned towards the photographer and struck a pose brimming with confidence and showing off his broad smile for The Daily Prophet.
Then he said, "Perhaps you should go to the Headmaster's Office, you might be able to get a few photographs of Mr. Pettigrew as the Aurors question him." The reporter and her photographer quickly exited his office. Not quite at a run, but definitely a very fast walk. The two should arrive well before the Aurors had a chance to come through the Headmaster's Floo, if he had even remembered to call them! The Aurors hadn't had any warning that there was a game afoot this afternoon and it would take them a ridiculously long time to get things together.
As soon as the door closed behind them, he sent a messenger patronus to Mr. Weasley at his office. "Ah, Mr. Weasley, something has come up here at Hogwarts with your son, Ronald Weasley. He's not hurt or in any trouble, for once, but you and your wife's presence are urgently needed. Floo directly here to my office from your home, as soon as you can, if not immediately." Then he gave the name of his floo connection.
"Miksy?" POP, "Miksy comes, Professor Defender." "Excellent, would you please inform Mr. Percy Weasley that I am in need of his presence in my office immediately?" "Miksy tells Stuck-up Wheezy that youse needs him." POP.
Huh, even the house-elves considered Percy to be a rule-bound prat.
It took only a few minutes for the two anxious parents to arrive. It probably would take longer for Rita and Bozo to make it to the Headmaster's Office.
"Ah. It's a pleasure to see you Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Welcome to my humble office. Come, take a seat while we wait for your son, Percy." They had no sooner seated themselves than an out-of-breath Percy arrived.
"Ah, Percy. I see that you have come too, as per my instructions." Lockhart said. Percy slowly walked in and sat cautiously. He was still somewhat stunned at the revelations about his former pet.
Gilderoy sighed. "I am very sorry; there is no easy way to say this." He tried to project a steady calm comforting air to the worried parents.
"You sons' pet rat, Scabbers, I believe he is called, was not just a rat. He was a Wizard hiding out in your home as a rat. And he wasn't just any Wizard, either. He was the supposedly dead Peter Pettigrew, a confirmed Death Eater."
For a moment, the older Weasleys looked puzzled. "But Peter is dead," objected Arthur.
Harry/Gilderoy shook his head and smiled ruefully, "Reports of his death appear to have been greatly exaggerated. He is, at this very moment, in the Headmaster's Office waiting for the Aurors to take him back to the Ministry. Isn't that true, Mr. Percy Weasley?"
"Yes, that's true," Percy said earnestly. "I saw him transform, myself, from Scabbers to a middle-aged man." He fell silent, thinking. "And he had that Death Eater mark on his left arm."
They sat there, stunned. The implications of a Wizard hiding in their home as a rat hadn't set in yet, just the fact that their sons' pet rat was a Wizard left them breathless.
Gilderoy continued after a moment, saying consolingly, "It must be terrible to learn that a monster, a Death Eater with dozens of murders to his name and who knows how many other nefarious crimes he has committed, has been boarded in your house, close to your children, sleeping their beds for over a decade." Mr. and Mrs. Weasley nodded their heads slowly, still trying to come to terms with what they had just learned.
Time to set the charge for the explosion.
"Mr. Weasley," said Lockhart, "I have to ask. Have you had any of those mornings where your wife shows a lot of affection for you for no apparent reason you can remember?" At the blank, not understanding look on Arthur's face, he continued, "Mrs. Weasley, has Percy Weasley ever had complaints of pains in his bum or blood in his stool?" A not-uncommon occurrence in small children as they grow, especially if they are active.
"When he was a child of seven or eight," Mrs Weasley said. There was a very brief pause and then she shouted angrily, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Gilderoy probably didn't need to add his anger-increasing spell but he wanted her infuriated beyond common sense.
"There can be a few side effects to sleeping with an adult man, you know?" Lockhart answered delicately, with concern in his voice. "And with an accomplished obliviator, such as Peter, the boy would never remember he had a reason to complain."
Mrs Weasley slowly turned her head towards her 'perfect' son, lunged from her chair, and grabbed him into a fierce hug. She rained kisses all over his face, crying repeatedly, "Not my boy, not my Percy." Then she turned and roared, "WHERE IS THAT BASTARD?" There is no creature more terrifying, or violent, than the female of a species defending her young.
"I believe he is still in Dumbledore's office. If we are lucky, we can confront him before the Aurors take him from the school, and get the truth from him." Lockhart answered in a calculating tone. Molly immediately sstalked out of the room, knocking her chair to the floor as she did so. She knew the way to the Headmaster's Office – the twins had been the cause of more than one visit over the last few years. She had her wand out with murder in her eyes. She was an enraged mother and she was going to fix the Wizard who had dared harm her son!
Mr. Weasley's expression changed to one of horror as he slowly understood the implications of what Lockhart said. He grabbed hold of his son's arm, whose pale face indicated he, too, understood what Gilderoy had implied. Both rushed after Molly, wands in hand. Percy was still a bit confused, trying to think if anything 'bad' had really happened, and terrified of what that might mean. Were there blank spots in his memory of The Burrow? Gilderoy followed fleetly, quickly catching up with the family.
"WHERE THE HELL IS THAT BLOODY BASTARD" Molly yelled as she stormed down the corridor ahead of them and up the stairs to the Headmaster's Office, her magic rolling off her in waves. And she found the rat still there, the Aurors having just placed magic inhibiting cuffs on him to prevent him from escaping, either with magic or as an animagus. Apparently, they had responded a bit more quickly to the famous Dumbledore calling for assistance than they did regular Wizards and Witches. Poppy, Sprout, and Minerva tried to restrain the irate mother after she charged into the large office, while Rita watched, stunned. Bozo took pictures, just as he should.
However, despite their combined strength, they could not hold the berserk Witch back. She threw them off as a bear shakes off dogs and pointed her wand at the accused. Before she could speak a suitable spell, Minerva managed to snatch the wand from her grasp. Molly stood there, her hand out-stretched, and screamed wordlessly in blind rage. Magic poured out of her and hit Peter Pettigrew. There was a blast of flames.
In an instant, he was reduced to a pile of dust, not even having time to cry out in horror and pain. The two Aurors holding him were untouched, their hands not even warmed. The dust blew away in a wind that appeared to be coming from Molly Weasley, leaving only his worn clothes, two wands, and the magic-inhibiting cuffs on the floor.
Everybody stared, shocked. No one had ever seen or heard of such a powerful bout of accidental magic from an adult. It was as if she had more magic than she possibly could contain and it finally found an outlet in the cowering Wizard.
Lockhart, standing in the doorway, watching from behind the shocked Arthur Weasley and his son, said, speculatively, "I think we now know how Voldewhore died." He wandlessly and silently finited the anger spell on the woman, not that she noticed, swaying in the after-effects of transmitting so much magical energy.
This had worked even better than he had hoped. Her outrage had focused everyone's attention on her. No one had noticed him augmenting her magic with his own as they hurried down the corridors behind her, filling her with the raw power she needed to do what she could never have done on her own. Pumping magic into her so that it bled out in visible waves around her as she hurried to the Headmaster's office. The other two Weasleys, wrapped up in their own concerns, didn't notice the colourless beam of energy he kept on her back as they ran behind her.
Even a pensieve memory wouldn't reveal his meddling, as it all took place outside the Headmaster's office.
Fortunately, Bozo managed to capture the event for posterity. No one could accuse Molly of killing a Wizard with her wand. And when, subsequently, the Aurors confirmed she was incapable of wandless magic, they wrote it off as a massive burst of accidental magic brought about by stress of the situation. A mother's love, after all, was a very powerful force, indeed. And no court, especially a Wizarding Court, would convict her, a Pure-blood, of killing a Half-blood, especially considering the circumstances.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone