Meanwhile, Tver stayed in the Hospital Wing, accompanying Harry and the others through their examinations.
Of course, the only one whose injuries could be called serious was Ron. Even so, no matter how long he wailed, it didn't change the fact that they were minor wounds that would heal after a few days of rest.
Dumbledore stopped by midway, checked on their condition, and after giving Tver a subtle wink, left.
Catching the signal, Tver smiled knowingly.
"You stay here with Ron. I have a few things to take care of."
"Professor…" Just before he left, Harry, who had been quiet for some time, suddenly spoke up.
"Do you know what's going to happen to Sirius?"
Tver turned back, a little surprised.
Ron and Hermione were also looking at him, concern written plainly on their faces.
In just one night, Harry and Black had grown this close already?
Was it because the Dursleys had treated Harry too badly, or because Sirius had treated him too well?
"Don't worry. He'll be fine," Tver said.
After a moment's thought, he added, "Of course, the most important thing is the Ministry's attitude."
Tonight, Sirius Black wasn't Tver's main objective, so he neither intended to nor needed to interfere with the Ministry's decisions, especially Fudge's stance on Black.
Even so, Fudge wouldn't dare truly do anything to Sirius. At the very least, he wouldn't go any further than what was already in the original course of events.
Still, Harry and the others took Tver's words as if they were gospel, as though he could decide the Ministry's actions himself.
…Which, come to think of it, he actually could. And more and more so.
With that slightly odd thought in mind, Tver climbed the increasingly dim staircase toward the quiet West Tower.
"Peter Pettigrew is inside," Marvolio said with a rather unscrupulous, satisfied grin. "I gave him a good scare earlier. He's in there trembling now."
"How does Fudge plan to let him go?" Tver asked, glancing over the empty castle lawns.
Even if Peter could turn into a rat, escaping the castle wouldn't be that easy.
"He didn't say," Marvolio sneered. "He probably wants me to take him out personally. That way, if it's ever exposed, he can dump the blame on me."
Marvolio had long since seen through Fudge's cowardly nature. All that talk about having tea with Dumbledore was probably just an excuse to stay far away from this filthy business.
"Perfect," Tver said calmly. "Go bring that Hippogriff over. Let the two of them leave together."
Buckbeak's hearing had been temporarily suspended when Marvolio reported Black's whereabouts. Letting it go with Peter meant that an already overwhelmed Fudge likely wouldn't have the time or energy to interfere.
Honestly, for the Minister himself to get involved over the appeal of an ordinary Hippogriff… it was almost as if he was afraid people wouldn't notice his guilty conscience.
Once Marvolio left, Tver straightened his robes, then unhurriedly pushed open the iron door holding Peter.
At the sound, Peter shot up from the floor in a panic.
"Why is it you?" Peter stared at Tver in shock, then looked past him at the empty space behind.
"Where's that Auror? And the Minister of Magic?"
"Oh, them?" Tver replied casually.
"They're busy thinking about how to deal with you."
With a flick of his hand, two finely made chairs rose from the floor. Tver walked over and sat down without ceremony.
Peter was too short. Talking to him meant constantly looking down, which was hardly comfortable. But Peter had no interest in sitting at all.
The moment he heard the word deal, his hands and feet began to tremble uncontrollably. His eyes flicked back and forth, repeatedly darting toward the open doorway.
"If you try to run," Tver said mildly,
"I won't wait for them to decide anything. I'll kill you on the spot. I doubt anyone would bother condemning me over such a trivial matter."
Tver crossed one leg over the other. The gentle smile on his face looked, to Peter, like something straight out of a nightmare, sending a chill through his entire body.
"Y-you really plan to kill me…?" Peter's strength drained away, and he collapsed onto the floor.
"Strictly speaking," Tver said,
"they do."
Catching a whiff of hope, Peter suddenly sprang back up, faster and more determined than before.
"What do you mean?! You're not the same as them?"
"Mhm."
That simple sound, uttered through Tver's nose, inexplicably filled Peter with a sense of reassurance.
"Y-you're going to save me?" he asked cautiously.
"You could put it that way."
"And you'll let me leave this place?"
A trace of joy finally crept onto his face.
"Yes."
"Hahaha! I knew it, you're a good person!" Peter burst out laughing.
Overexcited, he reached out to grab Tver's hand, only to have it brushed aside with clear disdain.
Tver frowned slightly but said nothing. Peter could only laugh awkwardly in response.
"Then… let's go."
"Go?" Tver finally asked his first real question of the night.
"Have you thought about where you're going?"
"Or rather, where can you go?"
"The moment you escape, both the Ministry and Dumbledore will be hunting you down. That kind of treatment, I imagine, is reserved for Voldemort himself."
"And speaking of which," Tver added lightly,
"your former master probably isn't very fond of you either, is he?"
At the mention of Voldemort, Peter shuddered violently. Yet Tver's words filled him with even greater terror.
"I… I can keep hiding."
Tver looked at his cowering figure with open mockery.
"Hiding until when? Until Harry grows old and dies? Or until Black forgets the hatred between the two of you?"
"Even if you really could hide that long, what difference would it make? You'd be no different from a dead man. And your mother would still have to live with the disgrace you left behind."
At the mention of his mother, something finally cracked in Peter's terrified expression.
"I… I… then what am I supposed to do?!" he shouted, on the verge of hysteria.
Seeing that opening in Peter's defenses, Tver calmly laid out his true purpose.
"It's simple. Go find Voldemort. I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking you back."
This time, Peter forgot to be afraid. He stared at Tver in a daze.
"F-find… the Dark Lord?"
"Exactly."
Tver took out a wand. It was the phoenix-feather wand Voldemort had left behind, the one Cynthia had recovered from the ruins of Harry's home.
"Take this wand to him. Voldemort won't mind accepting you again. In fact, under these circumstances, he might even put you to good use. Helping him return, for instance."
Peter's mouth fell open wider and wider as he finally understood what Tver wanted from him.
How dare he? How dare he plant a spy at the Dark Lord's side? How dare he scheme against the most terrifying Dark Lord in history?
Overwhelmed by fear of Voldemort, Peter collapsed to his knees in front of Tver, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Please, don't do this! I'll do anything you want, anything at all, but I can't go back to the Dark Lord as a spy! If he finds out, he'll kill me!"
"Then go die," Tver said calmly, gesturing toward the door.
Standing there was Marvolio, his face twisted into something vicious. He even licked his lips, eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation.
"Uh…"
Peter looked up in a daze. Snot and tears streaked his face, making his already ugly features even harder to look at.
This was supposed to be a negotiation.
Why couldn't they bargain back and forth like normal people? Why did it jump straight to life and death?!
Didn't he know that death was the thing Peter feared most of all?!
...
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