Huh? He had honestly never considered that path.
"Then I should wait until seventh year…" he muttered under his breath. Door closed, only the two of them here, so Snape heard every word, crystal clear.
"Sectumsempra!"
"Evanesco!"
Spell met spell in a snap. The invisible blade of magic skimmed Snape's cheek like a breeze and vanished. His expression turned complicated.
Tom was still Tom, fond of flashy and impractical counters. Yet Snape no longer had the standing to nitpick. Flashy or not, the boy could swat aside his offense with ease.
"Head of House, why so irritable?" Tom sighed. "That is not very Slytherin. It is more like those brainless Gryffindors."
"I will faithfully relay your assessment to Granger," Snape said, composure returning, voice cold.
"No need," Tom waved it off. "I have said it more than once. Hermione agrees."
"Then what is this 'apology gift'?" Snape frowned.
"Come with me. Let's explain it in the Headmaster's office. Saves me repeating myself to Dumbledore."
Tom finished and walked out on his own. Snape's curiosity was well and truly hooked. He wanted to know where the boy found the nerve to waltz in here with a gift that could wash clean an eleven-year-old's zero-cost shopping spree.
Going to Dumbledore was fine. At least his safety would be more or less assured.
The two of them set off, one ahead and one behind.
They had not even returned to their respective common rooms. Students wandering the corridors were the unlucky ones. Snape's face was thunderous, and he vented a day's worth of bile on every house, hacking away points in sweeping strokes.
By the time they reached the eighth floor, he had probably stripped a few dozen points, evenly distributed.
Tom slowed a little, walking shoulder to shoulder with him. "By the way, you were gone all day, right? Skipped your class too?"
Snape's face did not flicker. "I went to St Mungo's."
Tom had already guessed the reason. "For the patients infected by those mutated vampires?"
"Mm."
"Any solutions yet?"
"I brew potions, not hallucinations. It cannot be that fast." Snape's irritation leaked through. That was part of his foul mood. He had worked half a day with no real progress and would have to keep going back.
The stone gargoyle hopped aside the instant it saw Tom lift a hand, opening the way. As Tom passed, it muttered, "Riddle, send the nuisance away for a moment later. I have business with you."
Snape:
…
Even the statue despised him?
Tom nodded with a smile and stepped onto the spiral staircase.
Inside, Dumbledore was brooding over the vampire mutations as well. He had paged through a stack of old tomes without finding any matching record. It was not only the patients in urgent need of treatment. The source mattered more. Where was that vampire, and were there more like it?
The gargoyle opened. Dumbledore looked up in mild surprise, flicked his hand and the oak door swung inward. Snape and Tom had been about to knock.
"Headmaster," Tom greeted him with an easy smile.
"A rare sight, the two of you together." Dumbledore nodded, gesturing for them to sit. "Every time I see Mr. Riddle here, a great matter follows. I hope this time brings good news and spares an old man's heart."
"It should be good news." Tom took out the glass jar. Under the curious eyes of both wizards, he tipped it and the shaggy thing inside thumped onto the carpet.
"This is…"
Tom tapped his wand. Scabbers unfurled and lengthened into Peter Pettigrew.
Snape shot to his feet, shocked. Dumbledore leaned forward despite himself.
"Peter?"
"Riddle, what in Merlin's name is going on?" Snape snapped, whipping his gaze back to Tom.
Tom repeated, verbatim, the tale Pettigrew had tried on him moments earlier. The two old foxes traded a glance and found the same dense skepticism in each other's eyes.
"Tom, do you believe him?" Dumbledore asked.
Tom shook his head. "I happened to hear Hagrid mention the old… rivalry between Professor Snape and the Marauders."
Snape's fists tightened, a small flame flickering in his eyes. That chapter was not a pleasant one.
Tom grinned and went on. "As for whether Pettigrew is lying, I leave that to you. I am handing him to Professor Snape as my apology gift. Professor, shall we call it even?"
Snape ignored him, voice flat and heavy. "Albus, none of this is normal. I need to employ extraordinary measures."
Dumbledore considered a moment. "Then Veritaserum. Severus, you have some in stock?"
"I carry it on me." Snape's eyes never left Pettigrew. "Riddle, wake him."
Tom gave the barest flick. A wisp of light drifted from his wandtip and sank into Pettigrew's brow. Dumbledore's eyelid twitched.
That was not a simple Stunning Spell. It was a control variant of the Imperius, drawn straight from will and spirit. Without returning that stolen thread, the subject would never wake.
Was that degree of caution necessary?
"Ahem." Dumbledore coughed twice to cover a ripple of disbelief. "No need to fret. Two or three drops of Veritaserum and we will know what happened to Peter all these years…"
He did not finish. Pettigrew's eyes fluttered open in a haze. Snape strode up, pinched a small vial between his fingers and dumped the entire contents down Pettigrew's throat.
Tom cocked his head at Dumbledore. "Two or three drops?"
Dumbledore: …