POV: THEODORE NOTT
"Expelliarmus!" "Everte Statum!" "Flipendo!" "Petrificus Totalus!" "Incarcerous!" "Aculeus!"
All three of us were firing spells in rapid succession, locked in absolute focus. Finally, we could feel that long-awaited victory over Patrik within our reach. He still stood firm against us, his shield shimmering with every color of the rainbow, but the end was in sight.
Ever since Tobias and I joined Rosier and DeMille, we had lost duels more than a hundred times. At first, he wrecked us all at once. Since he claimed we moved like blocks of wood and were only getting in each other's way, Agnes took over our training. It was unbelievable to watch the magical progress she had made since joining him. While we were clumsy, Agnes could defeat us all by herself at the beginning, with complete composure.
I admit, I had my doubts when Patrik ordered her to teach us. I worried whether she'd take it seriously and give it her all. My fears were for nothing. Just as I wanted to grow stronger, she craved Patrik's recognition, so she pushed herself to the limit.
We reached a level where Tobias and I could usually beat Agnes. And when all three of us went against Patrik? Sure, we lost every single time, but now it was fucking close. I could already taste the sweet flavor of victory on my tongue. I didn't care at all that it was three against one... a proud pureblood can only lose so many times before his ego hits rock bottom.
We had lost so often that we knew exactly what was coming: his shield would drop any second, he'd dodge, and then transition into a counterattack. We started firing spells more intensely to the sides as well, cutting off his escape route. He was ours!
Through the flashes of magic, I saw him smile. It was a look of genuine pleasure.
"He's happy to lose?" the thought flashed through my mind, but my hand didn't waver as I sent another "Expelliarmus!" It took me a fucking long time to master this spell. Tobias still hadn't quite got the hang of it, but it had enough power that Patrik's shield couldn't ignore the attacks in our barrage for long.
It was here. I felt it, and I wasn't wrong. Patrik dropped his shield, but instead of dodging, he instantly roared: "Aguamenti!"
A massive tidal wave erupted from his wand, sweeping away all our spells like toys and surging directly toward us.
"Protego!" Agnes screamed. We immediately huddled behind her because Tobias and I hadn't mastered this shield yet.
Her shield held for a moment, but then the wave swept us away like ragdolls and slammed us hard against the wall. I felt every bone in my body. My lungs were filling with water, and in that second, I truly thought I was going to drown.
It only lasted a minute, though. As quickly as the water had swept us away, it vanished. We remained lying on the floor, gasping for air. I blinked in disbelief, refusing to accept reality. I thought we were finally going to win, but in the end, it turned out that all that hard training and every single one of his previous wins were just a little game. From the start, we didn't stand a ghost of a chance.
"Is this what you meant, Grandfather?" I asked myself mentally as I recalled our conversation during Yule within our family circle.
***
"Grandfather, there's a Rosier in my year who uses wandless magic and masters every single spell on the first try. He defeated a fourth-year in a duel in front of the whole common room—he even used lightning!" I paused for a moment to absorb my grandfather's unreadable expression before continuing: "How is it possible he's so powerful? Shouldn't we all be equals as members of the Ancient Houses? In the Book of Houses you wrote, they aren't any more than we are."
"Theodore," my grandfather began in a low, gravelly voice, "equality is an illusion for Muggles and weak wizards. The Book of Houses speaks of blood purity, not core strength. The fact that both our families are in the Sacred Twenty-Eight only means we haven't dirtied our lineage. But magic? Magic is like fire—some can barely keep it in the hearth, and others can burn down cities with it."
He paused for a moment and tapped his finger on the cover of his book.
"The Rosiers never had a wizard this powerful at such a young age. Talented? Of course, many. Unfortunately, Mother Magic loves some people more than others. They feel magic differently; they think about it differently; they breathe and live it. It's not about the house or the purity of blood. One of the most powerful wizards of all time was in my year—my friend. He was the strongest, even though he was only a half-blood. While we struggled with basic spells, he had already mastered the most difficult ones. You may know him by the name Lord Voldemort. Before the madness of the Dark Arts consumed him, he was a great man."
He fell silent again, took a sip of mulled wine with his eyes fixed on the fire, and continued: "From my own experience, I advise you: do not compare yourself to young Rosier. You will only suffer. The main thing is to be better than you were yesterday. Don't ask why you aren't like him, and don't try to fight him. He would destroy you before you even had a chance to draw your wand."
"Above all, be careful, Theodore. Every House is watching Rosier. Everyone expects great things and is preparing for the future. Ever since he showed that massive affinity for fire in the Great Hall, dark circles have been expecting change from him. For many Houses, it was a gauntlet thrown directly into Dumbledore's face. You are the heir to our House, and I know you aren't as stupid as your father. Bow to no one."
***
"Hah, bow to no one. That's fucking easy to say. He swept us away like blades of grass," I thought as I heavily pushed myself up from the floor.
I felt my wet robes grow heavy on my shoulders as water dripped down my collar. My pride was as devastated in that moment as my lungs, which burned with every breath. I looked at Tobias—he was still crouching on his knees—and Agnes was brushing hair from her face with trembling hands. We were all at our breaking point, while Patrik stood there completely calm. The contrast was insulting.
***
Heh, it was a good feeling. Agnes, Tobias, and Theodore had improved so much that they not only mastered new spells but learned to fight as a unit. Their barrage with slight delays was excellent—they repeatedly backed me into a corner. They were so annoying that eventually, my nerves snapped, and I swept them away with water magic. It felt amazing to let loose for a moment and feel the element.
But I had other things to do. While they were picking themselves up from the floor, I headed toward the Hogwarts kitchens with a brief farewell. I really hoped to finally catch the Weasleys there. According to Dudi, the house-elf, they went there regularly, but I hadn't had any luck with them so far.
I already had the cage from Vane hidden under my bed in my room. All I was missing were the Weasleys and their map. I planned to smuggle the cage out of the castle on my birthday. I had a few days left to capture Pettigrew. I had arranged for Vespera to come and congratulate me in person—it would be the perfect time for her to do me a favor and deliver that rat directly to the Ministry. Ideally straight into Bones' hands.
Eagerly, I tickled the green pear and entered the kitchen. Bingo! The Weasleys were sitting in my usual spot. Finally.
The house-elves noticed me immediately, but most went back to their work. Except for one who ran toward me with an excited cry: "Master Patrik, Master Patrik! Fruit tart? Straight from the oven, oh yes, straight from the oven! And some cold milk too?"
How could I refuse him? Honestly? I couldn't. I nodded immediately; after all, it suited me quite well. I headed straight for the Weasleys while Dudi was already magically preparing the tart behind my back.
The red-headed twins watched me with interest as I calmly sat down across from them. They didn't stay quiet for long, though. One of them started immediately:
"Oh, your Dark Lordship, have you grown hungry?" he said with a wide grin, clearly taking the piss.
"Oh, Fred, this is just his appetizer. His usual dinner is considerably bloodier!" declared the other, probably George.
"Exactly. Everyone knows a young virgin is required for dinner," I replied, nose in the air. I took inspiration from Draco—that was exactly the face he made whenever he declared he'd tell his father about something.
"That makes sense, Fred," one of the twins declared. Of course, they'd swapped names somehow...
After a while, having drunk the cold milk and devastated the tart, I got down to business.
"And you? What are you doing here? Planning some mischief?" I asked with a fleeting smile.
Both immediately shot me surprised looks.
"Mischief? I don't know what you're talking about," they blurted out at once, determinedly trying to look sincere. But I could feel they were lying. Legilimency is priceless in moments like these.
"Guys, I have a high opinion of you, and that's why I'm going to be completely honest. That map was created by four students here at Hogwarts, and one of them was a member of my family. I need it. You could say it's my inheritance... and of course, I'm going to need your help too."
I paused for a moment. I saw their incredulous stares. They were just about to get up angrily to leave, so I quickly continued:
"If necessary, I can pay you. Of course, as proper Gryffindors, you should help me of your own accord, out of pure conviction. You'll be saving an innocent man from a fate worse than death and, more importantly... you'll be protecting your own family from a danger they've lived with for a decade."
They sat back down heavily. "What are you talking about? You'd better explain quickly," one of them ordered with a scowl, while the other watched me with undisguised tension.
I pulled out my wand while they watched me suspiciously. "Muffliato!" I waved, and a soft buzzing immediately filled the room. Now we had privacy.
"What do you know about the Potters and the fall of the Dark Lord?" I asked.
"Probably what everyone else knows. You-Know-Who came, attacked the Potters, and only Harry survived," one explained while the other nodded grimly. They were still too young to know the details. I doubted their home conversations revolved around who betrayed whom, so I began to explain.
"What not everyone knows is that the Potters were hidden under a powerful Fidelius Charm. That hid them from the entire world. The Secret Keeper had the secret of their location hidden in his soul. Even if Voldemort stood directly in front of their door, he would see nothing and couldn't attack them. Are you starting to guess where I'm going with this?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
They stared at me scowling for a moment until I suddenly felt their realization.
"The Secret Keeper... he must have betrayed them," one of the twins blurted out.
"Exactly. He betrayed them. The Dark Lord entered the Potters' house, tried to kill Harry, and failed. But what matters is what followed."
"Who betrayed them? And what does it have to do with the map?"
"The public thinks it was Sirius Black. He's been in Azkaban for over a decade, suffering every single day. But the truth is, he's rotting there wrongfully. He didn't betray them." I saw their disbelieving looks, but I continued: "The four who created this map are James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin. It was an open secret that Sirius was James's best friend, so no one questioned that he was the Keeper. Except there was a catch."
I made a short pause for them to absorb the gravity of the situation.
"They thought it would be smart to draw attention away. Sirius had dangerous roles in the war; it was expected they'd go after him. It wouldn't occur to anyone that they'd entrust the secret to the cowardly and weak Peter. And so Pettigrew became the Keeper and immediately betrayed them. When Sirius, mad with the pain of losing his friend, tracked him down, Peter blew up the street. He killed Muggles, cut off his own finger, and vanished. The Aurors captured Black and threw him into Azkaban without a trial. And I, as a member of his family, cannot leave him there a day longer."
I concluded my monologue. Their disbelieving looks didn't bother me—what I said was far too easy to verify.
"It's a nice story, but what does it have to do with us and our family being in danger?" one asked, while the other immediately followed up: "And why should we believe you?"
I calmly took a sip of milk and placed the glass on the table with a soft click.
"You should believe me because it's easily verifiable. And secondly—after Pettigrew fled, where do you think he hid?" I asked with mockery in my voice and a wider smile.
They looked at me puzzled, so I threw in: "You've been in great danger for an entire decade because you have the Potters' betrayer and a dangerous Death Eater with you." And as if that weren't enough, I added one last question: "What do you think that old Death Eater has been doing in your house for the last ten years? Just eating and sleeping? Or something worse?"
They went pale instantly. My hypothetical closing question worked, because the twin on the right immediately started fumbling in his bag and then pulled out the map, which he eagerly threw onto the table between us.
"Here's the map. You have five minutes to prove your talk, otherwise your own family won't recognize you and you'll suffer until you graduate from Hogwarts," the angry redhead hissed through his teeth.
It didn't bother me. I wasn't afraid of them, though it would be annoying to have to constantly look over my shoulder. I knew I was right. I pulled the map toward me, opened it, and said aloud: "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Thin ink lines began to spread from the tip of my wand like a spiderweb. They crawled across the parchment, joining into corridors, staircases, and rooms until those familiar words appeared at the top: Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs…
"Watch closely," I said, tracing my finger across the map toward the Gryffindor common room. Pettigrew wasn't there.
"Fuck. Was I wrong?" the thought occurred to me, but I immediately dismissed it. Neither Granger, nor Potter, nor even young Weasley were in the common room.
Where could they be? The library came to mind instantly, and they were exactly there. Granger was running between the shelves, Potter was sitting next to Weasley, and right on top of him, the name glowed: "Peter Pettigrew."
The twins leaned in so close their heads almost touched the parchment. I saw a vein in Fred's (or George's) temple begin to pulse uncontrollably. The ink name was there, clear and undeniable. Pettigrew hadn't moved a millimeter.
"So, as you can see, I was telling the truth. I need your help, also for the sake of your family's safety."
"What do you need from us?" "What's the plan?" they blurted out at once. After a moment, one of them followed up: "How is it we never noticed him? The map shows him, but we never saw him."
"Oh, you saw him. Peter is a rat. He's an Animagus, just like McGonagall," I replied to the last question. One of them immediately growled under his breath: "Scabbers!"
"But to the point. I need the map to track where he is and then catch him. I have an enchanted cage ready that he won't get out of. Catching him will be your job. You have to get him away from your brother. I'll provide the cage and arrange for him to get to the Aurors. Safely and surely. Thanks to that, an innocent man will get out of Azkaban."
They nodded in understanding, but then one of them asked: "Why not go to Dumbledore or McGonagall with this?"
I shook my head in disagreement. "I don't trust Dumbledore or McGonagall. This concerns a member of my family, and I have no intention of relying on their incompetence. They had plenty of time to notice that rat... In the end, I have to do it myself."
I immediately added: "I trust you. You have no reason to betray me, because this helps your family too—you'll finally be safe. And besides, Sirius Black is your distant family too. Your great-grandmother was of House Black. I will trust in your honor."
"You have our word," promised Fred (or George), while the other nodded in agreement. I felt they meant it. I nodded too. I was glad my trust in their character was well-placed. It's easy to ask for help, especially if it's a theoretically mutually beneficial deal.
"And in case you didn't want to do it just from the goodness of your hearts—Sirius will be a very wealthy man once his name is cleared," I threw in with a promise of reward, but both immediately shook their heads in disagreement.
"No, we don't need a reward. The main thing is that our family is safe and that Death Eater is in Azkaban," one replied, and the other immediately asked: "So when do we catch Scabbers?"
"Tomorrow will be ideal. We'll meet here, let's say at five PM, with the map and the cage, and go on the hunt. We'll see where he is and then catch him together. Sound good?"
"Sounds good." "Deal."
As soon as we agreed, I stood up to leave. Before I cancelled the Muffliato, though, I had to warn them: "Whatever you do, don't show that you suspect anything. Please, avoid them at least for today. He must not be warned. I'll prepare everything necessary in the meantime."
I had no choice. I hadn't expected to meet the twins today, and after those duels, I was feeling considerable fatigue. I had spent a large part of my power and I needed to be alert and one hundred percent ready for tomorrow's capture. Even if Pettigrew was a coward hidden in the skin of a rat, I couldn't underestimate him.
I needed the twins mainly as insurance. Ron would defend his rat, and I'd have to deal with their whole "Golden Trio." That wouldn't be a problem, but during the chaos, that rat might manage to escape. And I couldn't risk that.
As soon as they nodded, I said my goodbyes, cancelled the Muffliato, and headed for the exit. But not before remembering to praise that "supposedly" most amazing fruit tart. It wasn't quite up to the one from my girlfriend, but it was still great, and it pleased me to see how genuinely the elves rejoiced at the praise. If I can improve someone's mood with such a small thing, especially if they were so helpful to me, why not pay it back? A little kindness never killed anyone.
As soon as the kitchen entrance closed behind me, I headed toward the Slytherin common room.
***
Just as I got into the dungeons near the Slytherin common room, Snape stopped me.
"Mr. Rosier." I stopped immediately and turned toward him. "Yes, Professor?"
Snape was looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher; there was a hidden emotion in his face. After a moment, he spoke:
"Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office. Has something happened that I should be aware of?"
"I don't know of anything, Professor," I replied. There was no point in explaining anything. Even though Snape was acting strangely, I still had no reason to trust him fully.
His gaze darkened for a moment, yet simultaneously softened in a strange way. "Strange," I thought.
"You have the same look as your father when he was hiding something," he paused, and after a short silence continued: "If I don't know what's going on, Mr. Rosier, I cannot help you if it becomes necessary."
I studied him inquisitively and couldn't resist a jab: "Are you in the habit of helping students, Professor? Longbottom leaves every one of your classes in tears."
He ignored my jab entirely.
"When it is possible, yes. You can rely on the fact, Mr. Rosier, that I care about your safety. I will not pry, but if you should need help, I am here for you," he answered matter-of-factly, and together we headed toward the Headmaster's office.
"Hm, you must have had a close relationship with my father," I remarked aloud.
Snape only nodded silently, but completely ignored my unspoken question about the nature of their relationship. We walked through the silent corridors, and doubts swirled in my head.
"What does that old fool want from me? I hope I haven't drawn his attention to myself again," I thought bitterly. After today's duels and the plan with the twins, a meeting with Dumbledore was the last thing I needed.
***
Author's note:
"Equality is an illusion."
In this chapter, I wanted to show the gap between magical titans and those who are just... fundamentally incompetent (looking at you, Lockhart and Umbridge). It's not about blood; it's about the core.
Finally, we've involved the Weasleys. I never understood why so many protagonists insist on doing everything alone. Sometimes, a little honesty and cooperation is just a shortcut to getting things done.
And of course, fucking Dumbledore is back.
***
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Upcoming Chapters:
29. The Phoenix's Verdict
30. Pragmatism and Kindness
31. Water Whips and Secret Truths
32. The Echo of Wool's
33. In the Shadow of Lineage