Chapter 152: Cornelius Fudge
Professor McGonagall had likely used Apparition to fetch the Weasley parents, and they arrived swiftly, battling through the rain and the muddy grounds to reach the Castle.
Wade stood by the window, watching them—soaked, shivering, and trudging through the sludge.
—Filch is going to blow his top again, Wade suddenly thought.
These past few days, every student who ventured outside brought mud into the castle, tracking it through corridors and classrooms. Filch despised it—because the house-elves only cleaned at night.
Under Filch’s furious yelling and the constant threat of detention, fewer and fewer students dared to run out into the rain.
Not long after, another group approached across the lawn, led by Hagrid. They raised their wands high, as if holding invisible umbrellas, deflecting the rain with practiced ease.
“Wade…” Ron hesitated, voice trembling. “You… know… they said Scabbers… Peter Pettigrew was the Secret-Keeper. What’s going on?”
“Peter Pettigrew faked his death eleven years ago,” Wade said. “Sirius Black was imprisoned because of it. And during that time… something massive happened across the entire magical world…”
“The Dark Lord failed…” Ron whispered, eyes wide. “Harry’s parents died… So… the betrayal… that’s what they meant…”
“Come in,” Remus Lupin said, pushing open the door. “The interrogation is over. The Ministry of Magic people are almost here.”
Wade and Ron stepped inside—and saw Peter Pettigrew firmly bound to a chair, dazed and pale.
It was clear he’d just been given Veritaserum again.
Snape stared at Pettigrew with icy, venomous eyes, like a serpent coiled in shadow—full of hatred so deep it burned.
Ron flinched at the sight and quickly looked away.
When they entered, Snape turned his gaze to Remus Lupin, his expression still thick with disdain.
Wade silently sighed.
The decades-long grudge from the original timeline could never be summed up in a few lines.
Wade wasn’t a witness to those days. He could only guess at the truth—could never truly judge.
When they’d first captured Peter Pettigrew, Wade had considered using Snape’s power.
But in the end, he’d rejected it.
The reason was simple:
Snape hated the Marauders with a passion. If he’d caught the real traitor, he’d have sent him to his death with a single Avada Kedavra—no trial, no chance for Sirius Black to be exonerated.
Clearing the name of an enemy?
As if.
To Snape, Sirius Black was guilty by nature. He’d have loved to send Remus Lupin to Azkaban too—so the two could rot together in the Dementor’s embrace, forever entwined in despair.
Under Professor McGonagall’s guidance, the Weasley parents and several Ministry of Magic officials entered the Headmaster’s Office in turn.
At the front walked a stout, middle-aged man with messy gray hair. He wore a deep green coat and purple pointed boots, his face a mix of anxiety and grim seriousness.
“That’s Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic,” Ron whispered to Wade. “I’ve seen him before.”
Ron and Wade weren’t in the same House. They’d only ever been polite acquaintances.
But now, in the presence of so many adults, Ron instinctively treated the two of them as a unit—closer than usual.
“He’s got… odd taste,” Wade replied, just as quietly.
Sharing a joke about their father’s boss made Ron feel oddly bonded. When an Auror glanced their way, he instinctively fell silent and leaned slightly closer to Wade.
“Ron!” Mrs. Weasley suddenly rushed forward, hugging her son tightly, then pulling back to examine him from head to toe.
“I never thought… I never thought a stray mouse we adopted would turn out to be an Animagus… Did he hurt you?”
Her enthusiasm made Ron awkward. He wrenched himself free and called out, “No, Mom! I’m fine!”
“Good evening, Cornelius, Arthur, Molly,” Dumbledore said calmly. “I assume Minerva has filled you in on what happened.”
“Yes… I’ve heard the rumors,” Fudge replied, not stepping closer to Pettigrew. He studied the gray, trembling man with a frown.
“Unbelievable… truly unbelievable…” He shook his head. “Peter Pettigrew is actually alive? I mourned his death deeply… And yet, he didn’t even show up at his mother’s funeral…”
“Is that really Scabbers?” Arthur Weasley looked pale, struggling to believe. “Did he say anything? Why was he hiding in our house? What was he planning?”
“Please, Arthur,” Dumbledore said gently. “Peter Pettigrew only sought information from the magical world through your household. He did not harm the children.”
The Weasleys visibly relaxed.
One of the Aurors stepped forward, checking Pettigrew carefully. After confirming he wasn’t a magical disguise, he nodded at Fudge.
“Then I’ll take this man,” Fudge said. “Dumbledore, I’ll also need the Weasley family—Arthur, Molly, and young Ron—to provide details about Pettigrew.”
“Of course, Minister,” Arthur Weasley replied, waving to Ron to come over.
Fudge noticed Wade standing nearby.
“Who’s this child?”
“This is Wade Gray, Ravenclaw student,” Professor McGonagall introduced. “He captured Peter Pettigrew in his rat form.”
“Oh?” Fudge’s eyes sharpened. “Why did you go after a mouse?”
“I asked him to,” Remus Lupin said. “I knew Pettigrew well. I recognized his Animagus form.”
“If you’d like the full account of how he was captured,” Wade said politely, “I’m more than willing to provide it.”
That was exactly why he’d stayed behind.
“Ah… yes, we’ll get to that later,” Fudge said, uninterested. His gaze fixed on Remus Lupin. “You… can’t be an illegal Animagus, can you?”
Snape let out a sudden, cold laugh.
Remus flinched. “No… I’m not.”
“I can vouch for that,” Dumbledore said, nodding.
Snape’s face darkened instantly. He glared at Remus with venom.
“Very well,” Fudge said, turning his wand slowly in his hand. “Why does Pettigrew look like this? It seems… rather… unauthorized.”
“Given the severity of this case,” Dumbledore replied calmly, “we had no choice but to use Veritaserum to extract the truth.” He took the blame—protecting Remus. “Pettigrew confessed. He was the true Secret-Keeper for the Potters. He betrayed James and Lily Potter to Voldemort.”
Fudge flinched, a shiver running through him.
Dumbledore didn’t react. “After Voldemort’s fall, Pettigrew became a wanted man—outcast, hunted. He framed Sirius Black, then murdered over a dozen Muggles in broad daylight, using a spell to fake his own death. He vanished.”
“Of course,” Fudge said smoothly, “we’ll conduct a thorough investigation into this. The Ministry must uphold its duty. We can’t just accept your word without verification.”
He paused, then added, “After all, you once personally assured us Sirius Black was the Secret-Keeper. Now you’re retracting that claim. The public might not take kindly to such a reversal. We’ll need… more substantial evidence.”
Wade understood. Fudge wasn’t doubting Dumbledore—he was simply avoiding the appearance of being a puppet of the old Headmaster.
But a second investigation was only fair. Dumbledore couldn’t object.
“Minister,” Remus Lupin said, unable to hold back, “once we question Pettigrew, you’ll see—Sirius Black is innocent!”
“Hmph!” Snape sneered. “I can confirm Sirius Black showed a murderous streak at sixteen. He once tried to kill me. He and Pettigrew may have both joined The Dark Lord. This was just a falling-out among traitors.”
He shot Remus a venomous look—nearly exposing him as a Werewolf, but stopped himself, mindful of Dumbledore’s presence.
“Severus!” Remus snapped. “Imprisoning an innocent man in Azkaban isn’t justice!”
“Innocent?” Snape curled his lip into a cruel smirk. “Sirius Black is no innocent.”
“Enough, gentlemen,” Fudge interjected. “No need for this. I assure you, the Ministry will conduct a full and fair investigation. We won’t wrong a single innocent soul—and we won’t let a single criminal escape.”
His tone silenced them both.
“Thank you, Minister,” Snape said, his voice like a serpent’s hiss. “I’ll await the verdict… with great interest.”
It was clear he meant: If the Ministry doesn’t deliver justice, I will.
“Severus…” Dumbledore sighed.
Snape didn’t answer. He yanked open the door and strode out, robes billowing.
Fudge soon followed, taking Pettigrew, the Weasleys, and Remus with him. Only two Aurors remained to take statements from Wade and Ron.
With Remus now the official lead, Wade’s role was minimal—just a tool.
He gave a simple account of catching the rat and his relationship with Remus. The female Auror nodded, then signaled him to leave.
To them, a second-year student knew nothing.
Ron’s questioning lasted far longer.
Standing in the corridor, Wade glanced at his hand, lit by the pale glow from the window.
In his palm lay a small, rectangular piece of parchment.
On it, a tiny dot moved slowly, steadily.
(End of Chapter)
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