1,163Previously: In the worlds of Spellforged and Marigold, the escaped Bellatrix Lestrange attacks Hogwarts during the Halloween feast, causing the school to lockdown and forcing the students to spend the night in the Great Hall. In both worlds, the fugitive breaks into Gryffindor Tower and ransacks the third year boys' dorm. While discussing the attack, the five realize that Ron Weasley's pet is not his familiar, as with Chaser's world, but Peter Pettigrew, a death eater who betrayed the Potters to their deaths.
The doors of the Great Hall were unlocked the following morning, when the Headmaster called off the search. The Fat Lady was still missing, but no sign of her attacker was found. So, the students were released to go to their rooms and freshen up before a late breakfast, while the house tables were brought back in.
With morning classes cancelled, the students of Hogwarts had all morning to discuss what had happened. The consensus that Bellatrix Lestrange had attacked the castle, and had targeted Neville Longbottom, was clear.
Spellforged, in a rare move, sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. He and Neville did not discuss the attack at all, but the message was clear - Neville had the support of the boy-who-lived. When breakfast ended, an obviously grateful Neville thanked Spellforged for the support.
Ron Weasley's concern for his missing rat did not go unnoticed.
Marigold, full of concern for her housemates, had checked on the boys once she saw that the girls' dorm was untouched. There, she learned that yes - the attacker had broken into the third year boys' dorm. And yes, in addition to rifling through their possessions, the attacker had also made off with a certain rat.
Quite a coincidence.
Seeker pointed out that his world's Scabbers was as lazy as ever, rarely crawling out of bed to accompany Ron to classes. Today was no exception.
Rose had no real way to know about Scabbers. Even though she and Ron were somewhat friendly, it would still be an odd thing to ask out of the blue. From across the Great Hall, Ron seemed to be acting normally. Her guess was that Scabbers, in her world, was still in bed.
oOoOoOoOo
For Chaser, not getting caught was part of the Marauder legacy, something he had grown up learning at his father's knee. Of course, not getting caught also meant not being the one to catch others, if it can be avoided.
So, when he saw the Weasley twins muttering to a scrap of parchment, he had said nothing. Even when he heard them say the all-important password, he had said nothing. It was not his place to interfere.
Now, however, he had bigger fish to fry. If he was right, and the twins had the Marauder's Map, then it was likely that they had it elsewhere as well. It wouldn't do him any good, but it could help Rose.
The OWL level Defense class, by stroke of luck, fell immediately after the third year Gryffindor/Slytherin class. When the Weasley twins arrived, they found three Slytherin girls waiting for them in the hallway.
"Gentlemen," Rose Potter began. "May I have a word?" Daphne and Tracey said nothing.
The twins looked at each other, and then nodded in unison. Rose led them down the hall a few paces, and then turned. Daphne and Tracey kept their distance, mainly to prevent anyone from interrupting the conversation.
"I'd like to borrow the map, please," Rose said.
Fred blinked at her, unable to keep the surprise from his face. George's eyes narrowed.
"What map?" he asked. "I don't know what you mean."
Rose grinned up at him. "I solemnly swear that you do."
It was George's turn to blink at her, shocked.
Fred folded his arms. "What's in it for us?" he asked.
"You'll have it back before the end of the week," Rose assured him. "And, as a bonus, I'll get your DADA class for today cancelled."
The twins looked at each other, and a silent but brief argument ensued. After a few moments, Fred pulled the parchment from his pocket.
"You're asking for an awful lot of trust, Miss Potter," Fred said, warily.
Taking the parchment, Rose smirked at him. "Then let me sweeten the pot, gentlemen. When I bring this back to you, I'll tell you about Prongs, Moony, and Padfoot."
George raised an eyebrow. "Not Wormtail?"
"Nope," she replied. "Why do you think I need the map?"
And with that, she walked back towards the Defense classroom, Daphne and Tracey falling in behind her.
Fred and George just stared at her as she went. When she was gone, they shared another look.
"What just happened?" George asked.
"No idea," Fred replied.
Before they could say anything else, a commotion drew their eyes to the Defense classroom, where Professor Lupin was storming past. His face was contorted in anger, something unusual for the normally genial man.
"Class is cancelled!" he shouted, almost in passing, as the OWL students started streaming out of the classroom in his wake.
George could only respond one way.
"...What?"
oOoOoOoOo
Marigold, in much the same way, had borrowed her twins' map as well. However, when she laid it out in front of Professor Lupin, and followed Chaser's instructions on how to find a specific person, there was no Peter Pettigrew to be found.
She ignored the Professor's increasingly curious gaze as she searched for "Wormtail" and "Scabbers", before trying "Peter Pettigrew" again. Then she simply looked at the third year boy's dorm in Gryffindor Tower.
As before, there was no sign of Peter Pettigrew.
"I was sure he'd be there," she muttered to herself.
"We've searched all over for him, Marigold," Lupin said, in his most reassuring tone. "If he had been here, we'd have known about it."
"Maybe," she whispered. "I could have been wrong."
"Everyone is on edge today, it's nothing to be concerned about," replied the Professor.
Marigold shook her head, her eyes still on the map.
"Don't you see, though?" she asked. "If one death eater was enough of a threat to justify dementors, then what damage could be caused by two?"
"So, that's what this is about," Lupin said, knowingly.
Marigold looked up. "What?"
"It's alright, I understand. Sirius was worried about it as well."
"I don't... " Marigold sputtered, before letting out a sigh. "Fine, let's say I'm just worried about the dementors, and not the death eater who broke into Gryffindor Tower a day ago. What would you suggest?"
Lupin smiled down at her, and pulled out his wand.
"Have you ever heard of the Patronus charm?"
oOoOoOoOo
"Hey, Ron?"
Ron Weasley looked up. "Yeah, Harry?"
Seeker walked over to the couch in the Gryffindor common room, where Neville was working with Ron on his Herbology assignment.
"I know it's none of my business," Seeker began, doing his best to look sheepish. "But… I mean, well… have you noticed anything wrong with Scabbers lately?"
Ron frowned at the question. "He's been lazier than usual this year. Barely wants to leave the dorm, now that I think about it." He tilted his head, looking up at Harry. "Why?"
Seeker looked apologetic, and was sincere about it. He hated lying to a friend, but - as Spellforged had pointed out - they had bigger fish to fry. Or, rather, bigger death eaters.
"I think he's getting ill, Ron," Seeker reported. "When I went up to put my books away, he was laying on my bed in a puddle of sick."
"Blimey," Ron said, horrified. "Sorry, mate."
Seeker waved it off. "No worries, I cleaned it up. But I think we might want to have Scabbers looked at."
Ron sighed. "Yeah, probably." He turned to Neville. "We'll have to do this later, Nev."
"No," Seeker said, drawing looks from both other boys. "I mean, I can take him to Professor Lupin for you, there's no need to get up."
Neville raised an eyebrow. "Professor Lupin? Why not Hagrid?"
Seeker shrugged. "I mean, Hagrid's great, but he can't cast a diagnostic charm, now can he? Besides, Sirius told me that Professor Lupin got an O on his NEWT in Care of Magical Creatures, when they were at Hogwarts together." He looked back to Ron, who was (to Seeker's relief) nodding at the explanation. "If it's anything really bad, we'll take him down to Hagrid together. But honestly, the Defense classroom is much closer than Hagrid's hut."
"Yeah, that's fair," Ron agreed. "Let me know what you find out, will you?"
"Of course," Seeker agreed.
Five minutes later, Seeker was walking down the corridor, with one stunned rat in his pocket and a spring in his step.
Gryffindor my arse, came Rose's annoyed huff.
Language, Miss Potter, Seeker replied.
Settle down, kids, said Chaser, clearly amused. Laughter did not really carry over the link, but it was a narrow thing sometimes.
Hey, Chaser, you said Ron has a cat as a familiar? Asked Seeker.
Yep, came the reply. Why?
Let me know where he got her, Seeker answered. I think we owe him one after this.
oOoOoOoOo
Spellforged, as a Ravenclaw, had a much different schedule than his siblings, and so he was not able to find the Weasley twins before dinner that evening. He was debating whether to approach them during the meal, but figured that they would want some privacy. The map was not common knowledge, after all, even in Chaser's world where the three true Marauders still lived (and the betrayer didn't).
Even then, he wondered what the map would tell him. In Marigold's world, the rat had vanished, likely disappearing on the heels of Bellatrix Lestrange. Had she broken into the castle, evading dementors and the wards, just to obtain an ally?
If so, that raised another question. How had she known that the rat was even in the castle in the first place?
The previous night's meal had ended in terror, and so this night's meal was more subdued. As such, no one really took note of Spellforged brooding. Luna, seated as usual by his side, kept up enough idle chatter for the both of them, almost deflecting attention from him.
Later, he would be grateful for the brief respite. In the moment, however, his thoughts continued down the rabbit hole.
Whoever had known that Pettigrew was a) alive, and b) in the castle, must also have been able to get word to Lestrange. She had known exactly where to go, after all. If they knew that much, why didn't they send her to the Burrow during the summer? She escaped well before the start of the school year, and would have had plenty of time. With the stolen wand he assumed her to have, and the fact that the Weasley home is well known, it would have been trivial.
The death eaters knew exactly where the Burrow was, after all. Seven of them had died there, facing a heroic last stand at the wands of Gideon and Fabian Prewitt. The chances that Bellatrix Lestrange didn't know where that home was would be nil.
Who Benefits?
Again, he asked the question. Again, he had no answer.
Part of his mind registered shouting behind him, but he ignored it.
He didn't even notice the spellfire until it struck him. He was out almost before he registered the pain.
oOoOoOoOo
I think he's waking up.
Spellforged, what the fuck happened?
Language, Marigold.
Oi, shut the fuck up, Seeker, this isn't fucking funny.
I'm not laughing, dear sister, I assure you that.
Children, behave.
Rose, you know as well as I do which table sits behind Ravenclaw in the Great Hall.
Yes, I do. Hufflepuff.
No, it's Slytherin, dammit.
From your side of the room, yes. Not from mine.
And what the hell is that supposed to mean, Rose?
It means, Marigold, that we need more information before we act.
More…. What more do we need to know?!
Marigold… Dammit, I know you all hate potions, but you know that the best and strongest potions come out in the long brew. So, why are you trying to cut corners and spoil the batch? Quiet down and listen.
Yes, came Chaser's voice, speaking up for the first time. Quiet down, all of you. I want to try something. Can't you hear it?
It was Rose who responded, to everyone's shock.
...Holy shit.
oOoOoOoOo
"He was attacked, out of the blue, from behind, in a packed Great Hall, Headmaster!" snarled a very angry Filius Flitwick.
How? Thought Seeker. How can we hear him?
Something with the potions, probably, thought Marigold. That's good, that means there's no brain damage. Maybe he's immobilized?
Brain damage? Asked Rose.
Well, yeah, replied Marigold. What else do you think links us together?
"Nevertheless, you do not need to stand guard over the boy, Filius," replied the Headmaster.
Who the fuck was that?! Chaser's shock would have been funny, in any other circumstance.
Albus Dumbledore, came the reply from Rose, Seeker, and Marigold, all at once.
...Okay, that's weird as hell, Chaser thought.
Agreed, the three answered, again all at once.
Stop it! snapped Chaser.
"And do we have any answers, Headmaster?" The Ravenclaw's tone was less jovial Charms Master, and more former dueling champion, and the menace was clear.
"No, only more questions," Dumbledore said, with a sigh. "He had this parchment in his robes, when we searched him."
When they searched who? Marigold's impatience almost bled over the link.
He'd better read it out loud, muttered Rose.
"Heir Malfoy," Flitwick began, as if he had heard Rose. "I am legal counsel for your father, Lord Lucius Malfoy. Due to your continued failures, it is my sad duty to inform you that I have been directed to begin proceedings to have you disinherited and disowned from the House of Malfoy."
Fucking Draco, growled Seeker.
"However," Flitwick continued, "I am also bound to serve as your counsel. In that capacity, and in serving the best long-term interests of the House of Malfoy, I believe you have an opportunity to secure your rank and station."
What. Did. He. Do? Rose's voice was ice cold over the link.
"On the evening of November 1st, of this year, at or around 7:30 p.m., you are to accuse Harry Potter of attempting to usurp your place as the Heir Black. Then you are to tell him that everything is his fault. Whatever he says in response, you are then to strike him with a bludgeoning hex to the skull."
...Oh fuck me running.
My thoughts exactly, Marigold, replied Rose.
"Whatever happens from that point, you are to say nothing. If given the chance, you are to ask for your mother. Know that your actions serve the oaths of the House of Malfoy, and thus bring glory to the name you may yet keep. Good hunting." Flitwick looked up from the parchment, glaring at the Headmaster. "And where did Mister Malfoy find this letter?"
Dumbledore sighed. "He did not say. Mister Zabini says that there was a parchment on Mister Malfoy's pillow when the lockdown of the school ended this morning, but he had no idea when it was placed there, or by whom."
Flitwick rolled the letter back up, almost brandishing it at the Headmaster. "And this attorney, Luther whoever, is he legitimate?"
I'd like to know that as well, said Rose.
"The name was vaguely familiar, Filius," Dumbledore said. "Which may simply mean that he passed through these halls, once upon a time. It is one of many questions I have."
"Answers I hope to have as well, Headmaster."
Both men turned to see a pair of witches entering the hospital wing.
Who was that? asked Marigold.
Narcissa Malfoy, replied Rose.
"Lady Malfoy," Dumbledore greeted her, with a nod of his head. "I'm afraid there was some confusion, your son is with the aurors at the Ministry, awaiting you."
"I know," she replied, with a smile.
Something's wrong, said Rose.
The great oaken doors to the hospital wing slammed shut, drawing the attention of Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.
Flitwick's eyes never left Narcissa, and his instincts had been screaming at him since she entered. He was not distracted by the doors, but the Mediwitch's movement put her between Narcissa and his wand.
Which had been exactly the plan.
Narcissa reached out, and grabbed Pomfrey by the neck. Her wand was out, and aimed roughly at the Mediwitch's head, but could easily be brought to bear on either Flitwick or the Headmaster.
Both men were quick, of that there could be no question. But were they quick enough to stun her before she could kill Poppy Pomfrey? Was that a chance they were willing to take?
Dumbledore was not. "Narcissa, I'm disappointed."
Narcissa turned toward the Headmaster. "Dumbledore," she said, with a sneer that seemed to be something unnatural on her features. "I've been instructed to answer your questions exactly."
"Ah," he said, nodding. "I wonder by whom."
Narcissa smirked at him. "I've been instructed to answer your questions exactly. That is not a question."
At this point, it was Rose who began swearing across the link. The others got her to quiet down, just in time for the Headmaster to acquiesce.
"Fine," he replied, tiredly. "Who instructed you to answer my questions?"
"The spell was cast by my sister."
"Ah, so it was Bellatrix, then," said Dumbledore.
Narcissa's hand wavered, ever so slightly. "I've been instructed to reply that I have only one sister."
Dumbledore's eyes widened at that. "Do you believe that?"
Narcissa's smirk faded a bit. "I believe that I've been so instructed, yes."
She's fighting it, Marigold noted.
Holy shit, she's under the imperius? Asked Seeker.
What did you think she was doing? Snapped Rose.
...I kind of figured she was just being a Malfoy?
Ah, replied Rose. ...Alright, I can see that.
"And this letter?" Flitwick asked, gesturing with the scroll he still held in his hand. "Is it genuine?"
"I have never seen that letter before this moment," Narcissa replied.
"It directed your son to attack Mister Spellforged, during dinner." Dumbledore frowned once more, even as he spoke. "At a very particular time, come to think of it." He glanced at Flitwick, who seemed to have made the same connection. "Why is that, Narcissa?"
"My sister said that her plan was time-sensitive."
Dumbledore's wand was in his hand again, and when he spoke, it was with a tone angrier than anything anyone listening had heard from the Headmaster.
"What was Bellatrix's plan, Narcissa Malfoy?" he nearly snarled.
Narcissa blinked at him. A single tear rolled from her eye. Her grip on the shaking Medi-witch did not loosen one iota, but she seemed to be struggling all the same. When she spoke, in a small and frightened voice, her words almost echoed throughout the room - and, unbeknownst to her, across four other universes.
"Her plan?" said Narcissa. "The rise of the Dark Lord, of course."
A/N: You may take it as read that I've already been sufficiently scolded for letting this story - my passion project, once upon a time - go silent for a full year. Between a hand injury that lingers, work, a pandemic, and other things, I've not had the time (or ability) to write nearly as much as I'd have liked to this past year. The usual caveats apply, of course - nothing is abandoned, etc etc.
Besides, I still have so much love for these characters, as this chapter will show. This chapter, once I scrapped the bits and bobs I had and just got to writing, went from a somewhat light-hearted rat hunt to the five listening in on a bloody interrogation. Oh, and mix in assault, the imperius, a hostage negotiation, and some other fun things happening off screen. Even then, even then, this still topped out at 3,000 or so words. But it works, and it's a good stopping point, so here we go.
Did the Prewitt twins die defending the Burrow? In Spellforged's world, sure. It's a hell of a send off, and a goddamn shame it happened off-screen - those are two characters I wish we had gotten to know in canon.
Even if I don't reply to reviews, I still read them - and some of you have guessed at the mover and shaker behind some of the current shenanigans. There are hints here, for those who are looking.
I'll be back before another year passes, of that have no fear. If that doesn't work for you, you can queue up for a refund over thataway, with my compliments.
Feedback, as always, is welcome.