Chapter 252

Chapter 252

Why would an innocent hero, even one who had merely faked his death to escape danger, conceal his name and identity for more than a decade after peace had returned?

Fudge believed it. He had no choice but to believe it.

Fudge accepted the situation. He had no choice but to accept that either.

The most important matter now was no longer Pettigrew’s decade-old miscarriage of justice, but how Fudge could preserve his own position and his absolute authority within the Ministry of Magic.

Dumbledore merely smiled at Fudge’s question. He might possess unfathomably subtle Legilimency, capable of escaping all notice, but he did not need the spell to understand the second meaning hidden in Fudge’s words.

It amounted to no more than this: you discovered the matter, so you must give me an explanation — and, while you are at it, a solution.

“In truth, I did not know very much beforehand, Cornelius. I had only a few suspicions.”

“There were far too many doubts surrounding the original incident.”

“I believe even you must have questioned it at the time, did you not? After all, Mr Black was sent to Azkaban without ever receiving a trial.”

There was another meaning buried in Dumbledore’s words, and Amelia, watching from the side, caught it at once. No one could become Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without a keen mind. She was merely concerned that her Minister might fail to grasp Dumbledore’s implication.

She therefore cleared her throat softly.

“As I recall, it was Mr Crouch who…”

Amelia left the sentence unfinished. Sometimes a hint was all that was necessary.

Ah, yes. Of course. The man responsible for sending Sirius to Azkaban had been Barty Crouch. Back then, Crouch’s prospects of becoming Minister for Magic had been far brighter than Fudge’s. And what had Cornelius Fudge himself been doing at the time?

He had been a nobody.

Why should Cornelius Fudge bear the blame for old Barty Crouch’s mistake? True, it was the affair involving Barty Crouch’s son that had allowed Fudge to rise to power, but the elder Crouch had spent many years building deeply rooted influence throughout the Ministry. He remained a threat that could not be underestimated.

Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation was itself a position of immense power. Fudge had certainly entertained designs upon it. Yet even as Minister for Magic, there were times when he could do nothing.

Now, however, it seemed that the position might be ripe for a little adjustment.

At the thought, Fudge’s eyes gleamed and a broad smile spread across his plump face.

“Ah, quite right. At the time, I did privately harbour certain doubts about Mr Black’s circumstances. Why would he surrender without a struggle after blowing up that street? If I recall correctly, he raised no objection even when he was sent to Azkaban.”

“Unfortunately, my influence was limited in those days. Mr Black, I must offer you my apologies. Once the Ministry has verified the relevant procedures, we shall most certainly see justice done and provide you with suitable compensation.”

Having reasoned his way through the matter, Fudge bowed slightly to the silent Sirius Black, his face all smiles.

“To ensure that Mr Black is freed from his present predicament as quickly as possible, I ask that you give us a detailed account of everything you know, Dumbledore.”

“Of course.” Dumbledore smiled faintly. His eyes moved to Suer, who was hiding behind the others and enjoying the spectacle. “As it happens, the first person to discover Peter Pettigrew was actually…”

Everyone followed his gaze.

Suer, eyes half-closed as he savoured the sweetness of his sweet, suddenly noticed that the room had gone quiet.
What was going on? He was only watching the show. Why was everyone staring at him?

“Suer, tell us how you discovered Pettigrew,” Amelia prompted.

Suer had been rolling the sweet back and forth with his tongue. Her words made him stop in surprise.

“Dumbledore, who is this?” Fudge asked.

“I neglected to introduce him, Cornelius. This young wizard is Suer Bones, a third-year Hufflepuff.”

“Bones?” Fudge could not help looking towards Amelia.

“Yes, Minister. He is my nephew.” Amelia Bones nodded.

“That child?” Recognition dawned upon Fudge at once, and he nodded repeatedly. “The descendant of heroes. An exceptional young man indeed.”

“Mr Bones had something to do with the discovery of Peter Pettigrew?”

“Tell them, Suer.” Dumbledore nodded and watched him with a smile.

Suer felt rather helpless. He had intended to remain behind the curtain, hand the whole affair over to others and enjoy the spectacle as its secret mastermind. Was that not far more pleasant?

He did not quite understand why Dumbledore had dragged him into the light, but making a brief appearance would do no harm…

He pushed the sweet against his right molars and stepped forwards, exposing himself to the scrutiny of all the important figures in the room.

“It happened like this. At first, I did not know that Pettigrew was Scabbers. Around the time Mr Black escaped from prison, a friend and I encountered Mr Weasley in Diagon Alley. He was taking his rat to be examined.”

“Mr Weasley told me that Scabbers had already lived with his family for ten years. A rat surviving for ten years is quite extraordinary, but at the time I did not connect Scabbers with an Animagus.”

“After the school year began, Professor McGonagall discussed advanced Transfiguration with us in one of her lessons, including the Animagus transformation. It interested me, so I borrowed a book from the library. It made one fact very clear.”

“Although a wizard loses the ability to use magic while in Animagus form, his lifespan remains unchanged.”

Professor McGonagall, listening nearby, nodded. She had indeed taught the third-years about the pinnacle of human Transfiguration: the Animagus transformation.

“And when did you connect Pettigrew with the rat?” Fudge asked.

“That was another coincidence, Minister,” Suer continued. “Ron, Scabbers’s latest owner, had been terribly worried because the rat had grown weak.”

“As his friend, I offered him a little help. Ron and I carried out a few observations and experiments on his rat.”

Pettigrew, whose head had been hanging, suddenly looked up. Fury poured from his eyes.

The next instant, he screamed.

“It was you! You! It was you!”

His eyes were scarlet and his face twisted with rage as he struggled to throw himself at Suer.

Two powerful hands gripped Pettigrew tightly, preventing him from breaking free.

“Quiet him down.” Fudge frowned, having no idea what madness had seized Pettigrew, and looked towards his subordinate.

One of the Aurors nodded, drew his wand and struck Pettigrew with a spell.

Pettigrew gave a pained whimper and went limp.

That had been a heavy blow. Suer gave Pettigrew a pitying glance, without feeling the slightest additional emotion.