By the end of the sleepover, Harry Potter had somehow accomplished something almost impossible.
He had completely won over the entire Weasley family.
It started early the next morning, before most of the Burrow had even awakened properly. Molly Weasley came downstairs expecting chaos. With so many children inside the house, breakfast usually became a battle before sunrise. Fred and George stole food before it reached the table, Ron complained about portions, Ginny wandered around half asleep, and Arthur somehow got distracted by whatever strange Muggle object he had taken apart the night before.
So Molly entered the kitchen fully prepared for disaster.
Instead, she froze in the doorway.
The smell of pancakes, eggs, and toasted bread filled the room warmly while several pans floated carefully through the air. Bacon sizzled perfectly over the stove. Plates stacked themselves neatly beside the table.
And standing calmly in the center of it all—
Was Harry Potter.
Actually cooking.
Molly blinked twice in disbelief. "…Harry?"
Harry turned immediately at the sound of her voice. "Oh—good morning, Mrs. Weasley."
The casual response somehow made the scene even stranger.
Molly stared around the spotless kitchen again before looking back at him. "You're cooking?"
Harry looked genuinely confused by the question. "…yes?"
Before Molly could even process that answer, Fred stumbled into the kitchen with his hair sticking wildly in every direction. He looked half asleep until the smell hit him.
Then he stopped moving entirely.
"…what in Merlin's name?"
George entered directly behind him, still yawning. One glance at the table made him clutch his chest dramatically.
"Harry…"
Fred slowly approached the table like a pilgrim approaching holy ground. "You beautiful person."
Harry snorted softly while flipping another pancake.
Within ten minutes the entire Burrow had awakened, and every single Weasley reacted almost exactly the same way.
Ron sat down heavily at the table while shoving pancakes into his mouth almost immediately. "Wait," he said suspiciously between bites, "you actually know how to cook?"
Harry shrugged slightly as though it was nothing unusual. "I had to."
The answer came naturally.
Most of the children missed the deeper meaning completely.
Molly did not.
Her expression softened instantly as she watched him quietly return to cooking without complaint or embarrassment. Something painful flickered behind her eyes briefly before she hid it away.
From that point onward, Harry accidentally became everyone's favorite.
Because he fit into the Burrow's chaos strangely well.
He helped clean dishes without being asked. Fixed a loose cabinet hinge. Helped Ginny reach things from the upper shelves. Sat beside Percy discussing magical history for nearly an hour without looking bored once.
Even Arthur Weasley became delighted after discovering Harry genuinely listened to his explanations about Muggle inventions.
Arthur spent nearly twenty minutes proudly explaining the mechanics of a toaster while holding the object carefully in both hands.
"This," Arthur declared seriously, "is one of the greatest inventions of the non-magical world."
Harry studied it thoughtfully before nodding once. "It's efficient.
Arthur looked deeply emotional hearing someone finally appreciate the toaster properly.
"You understand," he whispered.
Fred leaned toward George immediately. "They've bonded."
George nodded solemnly. "We've lost Dad forever."
By midday, even Charlie who briefly visited through the Floo Network—ended up liking Harry almost immediately.
Charlie watched Harry help repair one of the chicken coop doors outside before quietly muttering to Percy, "He's weirdly responsible."
Percy nodded slowly. "Too responsible."
Fred overheard instantly. "That's because he's secretly forty years old."
George pointed dramatically toward Harry from across the yard. "Observe his behavior!"
"He folds blankets!"
"He organizes books!"
"He drinks tea like an old wizard!"
Harry immediately threw a bread roll directly at George's face.
The twins burst into laughter while Ginny nearly fell off her chair giggling.
And strangely enough—
Harry laughed too.
Not politely.
For the first time in a very long while, he wasn't thinking about dark artifacts, cursed bloodlines, secret conspiracies, or Ministry manipulation.
He was simply there.
At the Burrow.
Listening to Fred and George argue over whether a chicken could theoretically become a Quidditch mascot while Ron loudly demanded more food.
It felt… dangerously normal.
That evening secured Molly Weasley's affection permanently.
Harry offered to help cook dinner.
Molly expected him to assist politely for a few minutes before becoming overwhelmed like most children.
Instead, he moved through the kitchen naturally. Chopping vegetables. Managing pans. Cleaning as he worked. Even charming dishes dry afterward without being asked.
Molly watched him silently for nearly five full minutes before leaning toward Arthur.
"He cooks," she whispered quietly.
Arthur nodded.
"He cleans."
Another nod.
"He studies."
Fred and George immediately looked offended from across the kitchen.
"Mother!"
"We are delightful!"
Molly ignored them completely while continuing to stare at Harry thoughtfully.
"Why can't our boys behave like this?"
"Because we're fun," Fred answered immediately.
George pointed toward Harry. "He's one tea cup away from becoming a grandfather."
Even Percy seemed unusually relaxed throughout the evening. Normally stiff and overly formal, he genuinely enjoyed discussing books and magical law with Harry after dinner.
But throughout the entire day, nobody noticed one important thing.
Scabbers was gone.
The old rat never appeared once.
Normally Percy would have noticed immediately. He'd owned the rat for years.
But the Burrow had been too busy. Too distracted.
Later that evening, as the sky darkened orange beyond the hills, Harry finally prepared to leave.
Fred and George looked genuinely distressed by the announcement.
"You're leaving already?" Fred demanded.
Harry adjusted the strap of his bag calmly. "I have work tomorrow."
George immediately groaned. "That is such an adult thing to say."
Fred narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You really are forty years old."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm beginning to regret feeding you people.
"You say that," George replied, "but emotionally you've already adopted us."
Before Harry could answer, Molly pulled him into a tight hug.
"You're always welcome here, dear."
She truly meant it.
Ginny waved enthusiastically near the garden fence while Ron looked openly disappointed Harry was leaving already. Percy awkwardly thanked him for helping organize part of his bookshelf system.
Even Arthur seemed sad to see him go.
"It was wonderful having you here, Harry," Arthur said warmly. "You must visit again soon."
Harry hesitated briefly before nodding once. "…I'd like that."
Then Luna Lovegood, who had spent most of the evening quietly watching everyone, tilted her head slightly while standing beside the fence.
"You smile more here."
Harry blinked softly. "…do I?"
Luna nodded calmly. "Yes."
That answer stayed with him.
Because as Harry walked away from the Burrow beneath the evening sky, he realized something uncomfortable.
The warmth of the Weasley household felt dangerously comforting.
Like something he could grow attached to.
The moment Harry Potter returned to Slytherin Castle, he headed straight toward the underground levels beneath the fortress.
The trunk floating behind him rattled violently every few seconds as he descended deeper through the ancient stone corridors. From the outside, it looked harmless enough. Just another travel trunk filled with books, clothes, and the collection of sweets Fred and George had secretly stuffed inside before he left the Burrow.
But hidden beneath folded robes and blankets—
Inside a heavily warded silver cage—
A rat panicked endlessly.
Harry walked silently through the lower corridors while green torchlight flickered across the damp stone walls. The underground sections of Slytherin Castle felt colder than the upper levels. Ancient wards layered into the foundations made the very air feel heavy.
Magic weakened here.
Contained.
Even apparition became impossible once someone crossed into the deeper sections.
Perfect for prisoners.
Eventually Harry stopped near an isolated dungeon corridor protected by multiple rune-carved iron gates. He lowered the trunk calmly onto the ground before unlocking it with a flick of his wand.
The moment the lid opened, frantic squeaking erupted from inside.
The rat threw itself violently against the silver bars of the anti-magic cage, tiny claws scratching desperately against enchanted metal while its black eyes darted around in pure panic.
Harry opened the cage and shouted.
"Transform."
The rat froze instantly.
For one brief moment, absolute stillness filled the corridor.
Then the creature resumed panicking theatrically like an ordinary animal.
Harry sighed softly.
"Don't waste my time."
His eyes flickered faintly blue.
[Observe Activated]
[Name: Peter Pettigrew]
[Species: Human]
[Status: Animagus]
[Mental State: Extreme Fear]
[Intent: Escape]
Harry's expression hardened slightly.
"Transform."
This time the rat obeyed.
The transformation was ugly to watch. Bones twisted unnaturally while fur receded rapidly into shrinking flesh. Tiny limbs stretched grotesquely as the body warped violently against the floor.
Then, within seconds—
A man collapsed into the floor.
Short.
Balding.
Sweating.
Peter Pettigrew looked nothing like the terrifying dark wizard Harry expected. There was no menace in him. No charisma.
The man immediately threw himself against the bars desperately. "Please!"
His voice cracked instantly from panic.
"Please don't kill me!"
Harry remained expressionless while studying him silently.
Peter's watery eyes darted around wildly before locking back onto Harry again. "I'm innocent!"
Harry almost laughed at how quickly the man started begging.
"Innocent?" he repeated quietly.
Peter nodded frantically. "Yes! Yes! You don't understand—"
Then Harry noticed it.
The sleeve of Peter's robes had shifted during the transformation.
And burned permanently into the skin of his forearm—
Was the mark.
Harry's expression changed instantly.
Coldness entered his eyes completely now.
"So you're a Death Eater."
Peter froze.
Absolute terror spread across his face.
"…I can explain."
"You will."
The anti-magic wards activated immediately.
Even wandless magic became impossible inside the chamber.
"This dungeon suppresses magic," he explained casually. "You won't transform. You won't apparate. You won't escape."
Peter's face went pale with horror.
"No…"
Harry stepped toward the cell entrance before pausing briefly.
"The interesting question," he said quietly, "is why a Death Eater spent five years hiding as a pet rat inside the Weasley household."
Peter immediately shook his head violently. "I'm not a Death Eater!"
Harry looked unconvinced.
"You still carry the mark."
Peter opened and closed his mouth desperately before suddenly collapsing onto his knees.
"I had no choice!"
Harry stared at him silently for several long seconds.
Then he turned and walked away without another word.
The heavy dungeon door slammed shut behind him with a thunderous echo.
Peter immediately rushed toward the bars in panic. "Wait!"
"Please!"
"You don't understand!"
But Harry continued walking calmly through the corridor.
Because now he needed answers.
And fortunately, the Serpent Court contained several people exceptionally skilled at extracting information.
An hour later, the interrogation chamber beside the lower dungeon had been prepared.
The room itself was simple but intimidating. Green fire burned inside iron braziers while layered wards covered every wall. A long wooden table stood at the center surrounded by heavy chairs.
Present inside were Cassandra Vale, David, Joseph, Charles—
And Harry himself.
Cassandra crossed her arms while reading through the short report Harry had prepared. Then she slowly looked up at him.
"You kidnapped a Death Eater from the Weasley household."
Harry nodded calmly. "Yes."
Silence filled the room briefly.
David rubbed both hands across his face tiredly. "…sometimes I genuinely forget your life is insane."
Joseph looked far more intrigued than disturbed. "You're absolutely certain he's death eater?"
Harry nodded once. "He's an animagus. Unregistered, most likely. He was hiding as Percy Weasley's pet rat."
That statement made the entire room pause.
Charles frowned deeply. "That's not normal."
"No," Cassandra agreed quietly. "It really isn't."
Harry leaned against the edge of the table thoughtfully. "The name feels familiar. I know I've heard it before."
Then Cassandra suddenly froze.
"…Peter Pettigrew."
Harry looked toward her immediately. "You know him?"
Cassandra's expression darkened slowly.
"He was one of the people supposedly murdered by Sirius Black."
The room became completely silent.
Harry straightened immediately. "…what?"
Cassandra nodded grimly. "Twelve years ago. Officially, Sirius Black betrayed the Potters to Voldemort. Then he murdered Peter Pettigrew and several muggles before escaping."
Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"But Pettigrew is alive."
"And hiding," David added quietly.
Joseph slowly leaned backward in his chair. "…which means the official story may be completely wrong.
A heavy silence settled across the chamber.
Because every single person present understood what that possibility meant.
If Peter Pettigrew was alive—
Then Sirius Black may never have murdered anyone.
And if Sirius Black was innocent…
Then the Ministry imprisoned an innocent man inside Azkaban for twelve years.
From somewhere deeper in the dungeon, Peter Pettigrew's terrified screaming echoed faintly through the corridor.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Then Charles finally exhaled slowly.
"…This changes everything.
Harry's gaze remained fixed toward the dungeon entrance.
Cold.
Because suddenly this was no longer just about a hidden Death Eater.
This was about betrayal.