It didn't take long before I found myself beneath the spiral staircase. As I climbed, I smelled the familiar scent of owl droppings. Before I reached the very top, a frowning young student with an eagle emblem on her robes brushed past me. She looked to be of obvious Asian descent, and I had a feeling she was Potter's future love interest, though I couldn't recall her name. I bypassed her without a word.
Even before I stepped inside, I heard muffled sobs again... Is this fate? I was certain it was Sally. Why couldn't she find an empty classroom to cry in? And why the hell was she still wailing, anyway?
I entered with a slight sense of annoyance, and most of the owls immediately turned their gaze toward me. The Owlery was open and bright on one side, but Sally was huddled in the shadows at the back. I instantly got the answer to why she was sobbing right here—there were a few owls around her, letting themselves be scratched and occasionally hooting softly.
Not ten seconds had passed when my old acquaintance, a powerful owl I regularly used to deliver mail to Vespera, swooped down to me. It landed gently on my shoulder, careful not to hurt me with its talons. With a slow movement, I began to scratch its chest, and it hooted softly into my ear. I tended to it for a while longer, giving Sally time to notice me and pull herself together.
Then, I pulled an envelope from my robes. "Deliver this letter to Madam Bones, please."
The owl hooted in agreement and stretched out its left leg. I quickly attached the envelope; she gave me a gentle peck in greeting and immediately took flight toward London. I watched her for a moment until she vanished in the distance, and then, with an annoyed feeling but a calming expression, I turned to Sally.
"If this turns out to be some bullshit, I'm going to lose it," I thought to myself.
I walked slowly toward her. Her head was bowed, but in the time I'd been in the Owlery, she had surely noticed me.
"Hello, Sally."
"Ro—Rosier," she gasped, wiping her damp eyes with the sleeve of her robe. Her sleeves were completely soaked, her eyes and nose were red, and she looked a bit bloated.
Quickly, I bent down for a blade of grass covering the Owlery floor. I pointed my wand at it and uttered with concentration: "Verto!"
In a split second, the blade of grass transformed into a cotton, white-and-emerald handkerchief with a rose-thorn motif. I had thought about adding a snake to the design but changed my mind. Transfiguration didn't particularly appeal to me, but it had its uses. It was the first time I had used it outside of class, and I had to admit it was useful. The power of thought, magical strength, and imagination... the coefficient of magical power conversion regarding the missing mass was perfectly fine for such a small thing. The transformation from grass to cotton went smoothly.
She still wouldn't look me in the eye. I held the handkerchief directly in front of her face while she stared at the ground. She froze for a second, then took it.
"Thank you," she whispered into the silence of the room. The owls watched us curiously, as if we were some Turkish soap opera to them.
"Is someone at school hurting you?" I asked somewhat impatiently. "I saw a girl from your house leaving just now."
"N-no, everyone at school is fine," she shook her head, and for a moment, our eyes met. I felt fear, but it had a specific flavor—it wasn't fear for herself, but for someone else, combined with deep sadness. "That was Cho, she's okay," she added.
"Then why are you crying? Do you miss home?"
She didn't answer but raised her head again. Her pupils were dilated, and I knew I had hit the mark, though clearly not quite precisely. I couldn't stand it anymore and used Legilimency to enter her mind. Her shields were non-existent, so I was immediately pulled into the memory she was thinking of when I said the word "home."
I found myself hidden under a bed. I felt the chill of the cold floor, though I barely noticed it; it was dampened by paralyzing fear and anxiety. From the hallway outside the room, there was only shouting, thumping, and crashing.
"You bitch, you ruined my life! You hexed me and forced me to marry you!" shouted the masculine voice of Sally's father.
In response, there was crying mixed with her mother's screams: "Nooo, leave me alone!"
A dull thud echoed in the memory, followed by the heavy fall of a body. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks, and I was shaking like a leaf.
Suddenly, I was back in the Owlery. Sally was staring at the ground again, which snapped me out of her mind. I no longer felt the cold, the tears, or the fear. I didn't enter others' minds at Hogwarts as often as I did in the Muggle world, so I was confused for a fraction of a second. At the same time, I gained the feeling that if I focused more on the thought and used more magical power, I could remain in her mind even without direct eye contact.
"What do you want, Rosier?" she asked quietly.
I completely ignored her question and asked my own: "Are you afraid for your mother, Sally?"
She flinched and stared into my eyes again, her mouth agape. After a moment, she recovered and blurted out: "How do you know?!"
"I can see into your head, Sally," I replied with a wide grin. I would have tried to wink, too, but I never could quite manage that.
She stared at me in surprise for a while longer, but then she burst out laughing.
"Right, sure," she nodded. "You see into my head," she repeated amusedly, gently wiping her eyes with the handkerchief. "Impressive Transfiguration, by the way. I thought universal transformation wasn't taught until second year."
"One can always study ahead..." I replied with a small smile. "As a Ravenclaw, I have no doubt you study ahead too."
She nodded in agreement. "I study, but I don't practice spells, Rosier." She shook her head and added: "According to your theory grades, you mostly just practice spells."
"No. To cast a spell successfully, one must know the theory too... I just don't give a damn about essays, and that's reflected in my theoretical grades."
"Aren't you worried you'll have trouble finding a job in the future?"
"I don't plan on being employed," I replied amusedly.
"Oh, right, the Slytherin Prince," she snorted. "It must be nice to be born rich."
I shook my head in disagreement. "Sally, any wizard can be rich. A bit of cleverness and the whole world is within your reach. Magic is power... why on earth would you want to toil like a Muggle for a few Galleons?"
She looked thoughtful. She was quite shrewd—I noticed how skillfully she changed the subject from her family situation to magic, but I wasn't going to let that happen. I didn't want to see her wailing here for a third time.
"What's going on at your home, Sally?" I snapped her out of her thoughts. "If I can, I'll help you."
"You're a first-year, what could you possibly do?" she shook her head, but she began to explain: "My father is a Muggle, my mother a Muggle-born witch... In short—they started dating, my father got her pregnant with me, and his parents forced him to marry my mom. Later, she confessed to him that she was a witch, and it immediately clicked in his head that she must have hexed him. And so I can only fear what's happening at home."
"Does he hurt you too?"
She shook her head uncertainly. "He insults me now and then, and sometimes I get a slap when I try to protect my mom..."
"And where do you live?"
"I don't know what you need it for, but Delaney Court, Harpurhey, Manchester M9 5BF... Apartment nine."
"Just curiosity. Maybe I'll stop by for a visit this summer... By the way, United or City?"
"City, of course! If I supported United in my neighborhood, I'd be stoned... But they're the best anyway!"
"Pfff, United is the way," I smirked amusedly. "Everything will be fine, Sally, you'll see..." I added quickly, just as she was about to start an argument over the Manchester clubs.
My assurance caught her off guard. That was enough for me—she had stopped crying, the letter was sent, and so I could take my leave.
"If you need anything, let me know," I told her before leaving.
As I headed down, I heard her shouting after me: "Rosier, Manchester City is the best!"
I grinned. I had no desire to train; instead, I had a craving for a proper cake. So, before the seventh floor, I turned around and headed straight for the kitchens.
As soon as I walked in, an enthusiastic Dudi ran up to me. With a flap of his ears, he bowed deeply, and this time he was followed by the other elves, which was quite strange—usually, they returned to work immediately.
"What's going on, Dudi?"
"Young master gave the elves a great gift! Our elder has started teaching Dudi and some others to read slowly! It goes slowly, but Dudi does not give up, young master, oh no, he does not give up!"
„Ah, that book of fast-food recipes," I thought amusedly.
"Well, when you master the first recipe, I hope I'll be the first to taste the food," I remarked with a smirk.
"Of course, young master, Dudi swears you shall be the first!" He bowed deeply and asked: "Do you have a craving for something? I baked a strawberry cake today!"
"Then I'll take two pieces, please."
"Of course, right away, and with some cold milk," he promised.
But when I turned toward my corner spot, I noticed a group of red-haired boys watching me from there.
"If young master needs, we have another place to sit," Dudi offered before heading off for the cake.
"No, that's fine, I'll join them," I replied and walked toward them with a slow, calm pace.
I had time to look them over. They looked... simply wrecked. Tired, their hair had lost its luster, and they had visibly lost weight. It wasn't just the twins, but Ronald as well. From him, I would have immediately expected hatred toward my uniform, but he only watched me apathetically.
"Hi," I greeted and sat down calmly.
There was a double "hi" and an attempt at a smile from the twins, but no reaction from Ron. The Pettigrew situation had certainly taken its toll on them. Just then, the strawberry cake appeared before me, and I tucked in with gusto. The kitchen echoed only with the muffled chatter of elves, the clatter of pots, and my fork. The Weasleys were silent.
"By the way," I said after the first piece. "Fudge completely ignored your help, you know with what... But I'll share the Galleons," I promised them.
"We don't need the recognition," the right twin said with a shrug, and it seemed to me they came alive for a second.
I nodded. I didn't give a damn about public recognition either. "The Galleons, then. When I receive them this summer, I'll give you half."
"How much will it be?" the left twin asked, while Ron still watched me apathetically.
"Two thousand in total. You'll get a thousand."
They both nodded, and for a moment, I thought I saw a genuine smile. I was curious, but I didn't want to pry inappropriately. It was a massive trauma... I couldn't even imagine experiencing something like that. I also didn't want to use Legilimency. Partly out of moral reasons, but mainly because I didn't care about the details and I really didn't want to know the specifics. It made me nauseous just thinking about what Pettigrew was doing there.
I slowly finished the second piece of cake. It hit the spot, though my appetite was slightly dampened by their apathetic and quiet behavior. They sat there like wrecks—not eating, not drinking, and not talking. It was possible, though, that I had just disturbed their quiet family relaxation, even though their older brother was missing.
But not today. I would have to figure out how to lure my friends away from the room for a while so I could have complete peace for my search.
***
The following day, we were all enjoying breakfast at our house table in the Great Hall again. There was less than a month left until the end of the school year. Who knew how the finale between Voldemort, Potter, and Dumbledore would turn out, but I refused to get involved. I was certain the Stone was a fake, and I didn't care about any of them in the slightest.
Agnes and Theo were enthusiastically discussing the final school tests that awaited us soon, while Tobias ate contentedly and Draco talked with Zabini and Sallow nearby.
We were just finishing up when the owls appeared in the Great Hall with the Daily Prophet. On the front page, of course, was a large article by Rita Skeeter with a photo of a familiar rat.
THE BURROW: END OF THE HOUSE OF HORRORS– THE RAT'S LAST KISS
By Rita Skeeter
Yesterday morning at seven o'clock, in the freezing cells of Azkaban, one of the most repulsive chapters of our modern history was closed. Peter Pettigrew, the man we considered a dead hero for years, finally ceased to exist today. Not with a hero's death, but under the cold touch of a Dementor. He who hid like a coward for a decade finally faced the justice we have all been waiting for.
A Decade in the Shadows of Obliviate
As I reported in the previous edition, Pettigrew's presence in the Weasley family was no accident. This parasite chose The Burrow as his sanctuary and turned it into a private prison. Under the guise of a family pet, he systematically dismantled the lives of everyone under that roof. While the Weasleys appeared to be a harmonious, albeit poor, family on the outside, the reality was chilling.
Using the Obliviate charm, Pettigrew erased traces of his actions and abused the unsuspecting Molly Weasley. However, the tragedy affected the entire family. Arthur Weasley, a man whose job at the Ministry is to uncover the misuse of objects and protect order, had his own memory so shredded by Pettigrew's interference that he lived in deep ignorance for years. It is bitterly ironic that a man who spends his days looking for enchanted Muggle kettles failed to notice the monster in his own bedroom.
Justice That Came Late
Today's execution is a victory, but also a bitter admission of the colossal failure of our system. It is inconceivable that a mass murderer and abuser was able to evade Aurors and Ministry inspections for ten whole years, right under the nose of a government official. Justice in this case was not just blind; it was completely paralyzed.
Witnesses to today's sentencing confirmed that Pettigrew showed not a shred of remorse until the last moment. As the Dementor approached him, he could only muster a cowardly whimper and a desperate attempt to transform into a rat. It was in vain. A single long contact with the Dementor's freezing lips ended his existence. Only an empty shell without a soul remained—exactly what Pettigrew had inside him long ago.
Sirius Black and the Silence After the Storm
Naturally, I attempted to obtain a statement from the man whose name was cleared after years thanks to the exposure of this monster. However, Sirius Black remains unreachable for our newspaper. Whether he is avoiding the public due to past trauma or simply cannot find words for the atrocities his former friend committed remains a mystery for now.
The rat is dead, but the stench of betrayal will remain in The Burrow for a long time. We wish the Weasley family strength in treating their shattered minds and finding their lost memories. They will need it to remember who they truly are after years spent in the shadow of a monster.
After finishing the front page, I just managed to notice the sudden departure of the Weasleys from the Great Hall. Interestingly, no one made fun of their suffering. Everyone was likely completely horrified…
***
Author's note:
Here we have Sally again... and we're starting to find out more... Manchester City... yuck. :D
Just a little fun fact: I personally can't wink with one eye in real life, so our MC can't do it either. Now, you might be wondering—why is a witch being abused by a Muggle? Why does she let it happen? Realistically, many victims are too terrified to defend themselves or ask for help. It's a sad reality.
I'm still debating how to format the Daily Prophet reports in the story. Should the entire article be in italics? Or should the main text be standard and only the quotes in italics? Let me know what you think and what would be easiest for you to read! :)
***
Step into the Restricted Section
The shadows are shifting, and the story goes much deeper... If you can't wait for the next update, Advanced Chapters are already waiting for you.
Enter the Restricted Section here: you-know-what/PatrikWriter
Upcoming Chapters – Already Written(14):
54. Deus Vult
55. The Underworld Gambit
56. The Boy Who Sponsored
57. The End of the Year
58. VR: The Warrior of Durmstrang
59. The Mind of a Rosier
60. The Lioness and the Black Blood
61. A Rosier, Not a Goyle
62. The Babel Charm and the Emperor's Dagger
63. Business and Bloodshed
64. Cruelty for Cruelty
65. Adopted by Fate
66. The Scent of Darkness
67. Socks, Sandals, and Sorcery
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