Chapter 145: Capturing Wormtail 2
“Huh?” Fred blinked. “Why are we checking Ron’s dormitory? Mum didn’t tell us to tuck him in tonight!”
“Do you know Peter Pettigrew?” Wade asked again.
George frowned. “Who’s that?”
“Come with me.”
The group moved into an empty classroom. Wade spread open the Marauder’s Map. “You can see for yourselves.”
The twins exchanged a glance. George tapped the parchment lightly with his wand. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good!”
The map unfolded layer by layer. The Weasley brothers zeroed in instantly on the Gryffindor Common Room, scrutinizing the tiny names crawling across the surface—details they’d never paid attention to before.
There, at last, was their younger brother—Ron was there, along with Ginny. Several familiar names hovered nearby.
Then came the dormitory.
Neville Longbottom was inside. And then—Peter Pettigrew.
Fred frowned. “Who’s this guy? How’s he in Ron’s dorm?”
“It’s not in Ron’s dorm,” Wade corrected. “At night, their dots were practically touching. I’d say he’s been sleeping on Ron’s bed.”
The twins froze, eyes wide, staring at each other. Speechless for a long moment.
“Peter Pettigrew…” George whispered, his face pale. “That sounds like a man’s name…”
“Ha… Little Ron’s got a male friend?” Fred said, forcing a laugh, voice dry as dust.
Their eyes met—no joke came easily now. They weren’t actually believing their younger brother had secretly brought a mysterious male companion to share his bed every night, never once discovered by anyone.
But if that absurd idea was ruled out… then the truth was far more terrifying.
“We’re going to check it out,” Fred decided instantly.
He glanced back at the map, took a deep breath, and started walking toward the Gryffindor tower.
“Wait.” Wade stopped him, handing over a small vial. “Life-and-Death Elixir. I don’t know what that thing is capable of. Better to be cautious.”
George took the vial, gripped it tightly, and gave a silent nod.
No common room, regardless of house, welcomed outsiders. Wade stayed near the entrance, watching the map for any sign of trouble.
The Gryffindor Common Room had no eagle-shaped knocker that required riddles. Instead, it was guarded by a portrait of the Fat Lady—drunk, swaying slightly on her frame.
She opened the door after Fred whispered the password.
Inside, the room was full of students. Lee Jordan greeted the twins with enthusiasm, but they only waved absently, lost in thought.
“What’s wrong with them?” Lee asked his friend.
“Probably catching a cold,” someone shrugged. “Look at their ears—steam’s coming out!”
Ron was deep in a game of Wizard’s Chess with Dean, completely absorbed.
As they climbed the stairs, quiet and alone, Fred whispered, “George… I swear, Peter Pettigrew sounds familiar. Do you remember hearing that name before?”
George frowned, then shook his head. “Nothing comes to mind.”
“Maybe it’s from long ago,” Fred said gravely. “But I know I’ve heard it somewhere.”
“We’ll ask him when we catch him,” George replied.
They reached Ron’s dormitory. The door wasn’t locked. It opened with a push.
Neville sat on the floor, carefully polishing his wand. He looked up, startled.
“Uh… did I come to the wrong dorm?” he asked, glancing around, confused. It was his room—his bed, his things.
“Hey, Nev,” Fred said casually, eyes scanning the space. “Want to go play Deathmatch later? Tell Ron to come. Anyone else in here?”
“They’re probably still downstairs,” Neville scratched his head. “Harry went to the library…”
Then he realized too late: “Is the rain over?”
“Should be by afternoon,” George said, barely registering.
Neville noticed the twins weren’t looking at him at all. Instead, they were slowly moving in on Ron’s bed—one from each side.
“Ron’s not here,” Neville warned, voice rising slightly.
“Oh, right,” Fred said, waving it off. “We’re just taking his hero mouse with us. He’ll need it, won’t he?”
As he spoke, Fred yanked back the tangled mess of blankets.
A dirty sock fell to the floor.
A gray, thin, shaggy old rat lay curled in a nest of old rags at the head of the bed, fast asleep.
But as George reached for it, the rat shot up, leapt onto the edge of the bed, and stared at them with sharp, dark eyes.
Fred quickly scanned the bed area. Nothing else. No other creature. Not even a stray insect.
His stomach dropped.
“Come on, Scabbers,” Fred said, forcing cheer into his voice. “We’re taking you to the game field. Time to settle the score for Ron.”
George subtly slid his thumb under the cap of the Life-and-Death Elixir vial.
The rat sat there, utterly oblivious—just a silly old creature.
Then Fred raised his wand.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
Boom!
The spell hit the wall—missed completely. The rat had already leapt clear.
George hurled the vial—too late.
The glass shattered on the floor. The sharp, strange scent filled the air.
“Got him!” George shouted.
The rat shot through the door like lightning.
Neville staggered, dizzy. When he blinked back to clarity, the room was empty.
The twins thundered down the stairs, throwing spells behind them as they ran. But the tiny rat was faster—nimble, clever, dodging every curse, vanishing into the Common Room.
Everyone inside stared, stunned.
Crack!
A spell hit the cabinet beside the wall, shattering a vase to pieces.
“Fred! George! You’re breaking school rules!” Percy yelled, furious. “No magic in the Common Room! I’m taking points!”
“Not now!” Fred shouted. “Catch that rat!”
“A rat?” Ron gasped, horrified. “You’re chasing Scabbers? He’s just a mouse! He bit your things, but he’s just a harmless little rat!”
He reached out to block his brothers—just as someone opened the Common Room door.
Scabbers shot through the gap like a blur.
“Wait! Stop!”
The entire Weasley family burst out the door—chaos erupted. One after another, they stumbled straight into a muddy puddle.
Wade poured the Life-and-Death Elixir into the unconscious rat, then sealed it in a glass jar enchanted with binding charms. He watched the flustered group, sighed deeply.
Beside him, Harry—just having entered via password—frowned.
“What just happened?” he asked, bewildered.
(End of Chapter)
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