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Then there was a war and everyone engaged in guerrilla warfare over whether muggleborns are people too. Scabbers in his Peter form fought against the Dark because all his friends did and he's the type to follow the crowd. And then he betrayed his werewolf — who was and still is Professor Lupin — and his dog and deer — who're Sirius Black and my father respectively — to join the Dark Side because he decided they were no longer important even though he spent all that time to turn himself into a rat and fight with them because—because . . ." — she eyeballed the still struggling Scabbers — "Um . . . because Voldemort had a snake that could eat him? You didn't really explain that last part, sir."
"It's unimportant at this point, Heri," Professor Lupin said tiredly. "What's important is that Peter gets taken care of."
"I'm not saying I believe you," Heri said, crossing her arms.
"Then it's time we offered you some proof. Mr Weasley — give me Peter, please. Now."
Ron had clutched Scabbers closer to his chest.
"Come off it. Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean . . ." He looked up at Heri for support. "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"
"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question." Lupin turned to Black and frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"
Black put one of his clawlike hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others. It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.
There had been a few more minutes of back and forth in which Professor Lupin talked Ron into giving up Scabbers for the animagus revealing spell, but the professor eventually got his way. It was a good thing too, because as soon as the spell it, they were greeted by a rodent-like but definitely human man where Scabbers once was.
That had been sufficient proof for Heri.
While Pettigrew was mid-wheedling for his life, Heri plucked her transfiguration wand from her hair and shrunk his arms and legs to stubs before he knew what was happening. Unable to move beyond wriggling his torso, Pettigrew had squealed and whined in terror.
"Heri!" Ron yelped. "What did you—? Is he—?"
"His limbs are only shrunken, Ron," said Heri, her specialized wand still trained on Pettigrew. "I don't claim to be a judge, but a grown man living as a young boy's pet is a criminal enough even without being a mass murderer and the reason my parents are dead. We are taking him to the headmaster and contacting the DMLE at once."
And all of that would have been resolved if it hadn't been for the dementors that had noticed that Sirius was on the grounds while they were marching back up to the castle.
From atop the west tower that over looked the Forbidden Forest and the Whomping Willow, a figure witnessed the scene unfolding on the green.
It was truly a singular spectacle. A veritable flood of soul-sucking wights was descending upon a single fallen man while a young girl raced towards him, and another grown man fought to carry an injured child while also hauling a prisoner up to the safety of the castle, all the while calling back that he would bring help.
Actually, now that he was thinking of it in those terms, it wasn't that singular at all. Such happenings were quite commonplace back in the early ages.
It was still unusual though.
He watched as the ghastly phantoms surged closer, reaching out with their putrid hands to grasp at the fallen man as well as the girl. Before his eyes, she snarled a filthy word and . . . shifted into an amorphous form.
Now, this was interesting. He hadn't known she was capable of such a thing.
Now in similar make as the spectres leering down at them, the girl surged up, trailing smoke, and — with dark tendrils that appeared out of her back — latched onto one them that was clutching at the man. There was a screeching sound as she heaved a steadying breath. Suddenly her mouth became a maw and she was inhaling the beast much like the way they did souls. As the creatures recoiled momentarily, she grew more blurred at the edges and her tendrils lashed the air like a kraken whipping its tentacle.
The monsters were not deterred for long though.
He watched as the girl retrieved a wand from her hair and shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" while jabbing the wooden rod into the air. Lo and behold, a dazzling, blinding, silver animal burst forth from her wand.
Was that . . . ? Was that a platypus? Hmm, it could be a tadpool as well . . .
Well, whatever it was, it charged at the swarming wraiths and drove them back. It seemed that the child had hit upon their one true weakness. They were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness of the evening.
That little girl had driven off a murderous flock of those hellish creatures with one spell. He was not familiar with these wizarding types, but he was duly impressed but such a feat all the same.
It seemed that his lord's new fascination was living up to expectation. He would be delighted to hear so.
Without a sound, he shifted to smoke and melted into the night.