The Fall of Dumbledore: The White King

Peter Pettigrew Lives

The shadowed alcoves of the Slytherin dormitory glowed with the eldritch emerald luminance filtering down from the Black Lake's depths. Hades lay awake on his bed, the velvet draperies drawn aside to allow the spectral illumination to play across the Marauder's Map clutched reverently in his hands.

Ever since witnessing Pettigrew's name flickering like a ghostly revenant on the enchanted parchment during the Hogsmeade outing, an obsessive fascination had taken root within Hades' psyche. Could it truly be possible that the man whose betrayal led directly to his parents' murders at the Dark Lord's hand still moved freely among the wizarding world all these years later?

Jaw clenched with grim determination, Hades grasped his wand and gave the map a resolute tap. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good..."

The sinuous lines and esoteric runes bled into existence across the yellowed surface, rapidly coalescing into recognizable shapes and corridors. Hades' eyes raked over every nook and cranny of the spelled parchment, scrutinizing each moving dot with its accompanying name...until finally the distinct moniker leapt out at him.

Peter Pettigrew.

Hunched in acute concentration, Hades tracked the erratic meanderings of the blinking footprint as it wove a circuitous path across the boundaries represented by the map. Judging by the layout, it appeared to navigate the serpentine warren of appended tunnels branching off from the school's kitchens before slipping across one of the covered bridges spanning the chasms between the greenhouses.

Heart thundering with mingled outrage and disbelief, Hades vaulted from his bed and snatched his robes off their peg - not even bothering with shoes in his haste. He had to get to the bottom of this unfathomable mystery before the trail went cold.

The common room was utterly deserted, the sputtering emerald flames casting elongated shadows across the low-slung couches and armchairs as Hades hurried through at a half-crouch. His wand remained grasped tightly in one fist, the map unfurled in the other as he consulted it's constantly shifting layout.

By all indications, Pettigrew appeared to have wormed his way through the restricted arboretum behind the greenhouses, leaving a trail of slowly fading footprints meandering through the lines denoting the outer walls. Hades crept silently through the shadows of the cloister archways, the bitter night wind whipping his hair into disarray as he scanned the grounds for any sign of movement.

At last, passing beneath the sheltered confines of the covered bridge linking the greenhouses to the main quadrangles, Hades' eyes snapped toward the incongruous shape of a stooped figure scurrying through the shadows cast by the towering hedgerows up ahead. Squinting in the darkness, he raised his wand to properly illuminate the area when abruptly, a pair of powerful hands clamped down on his shoulders like vises.

Hades jolted in shock and terror, whirling around with a grunt of exertion as his wand arm swung up in a defensive arc. He nearly blasted his attacker off his feet before registering the achingly familiar pale features framed by curtains of sleek black hair.

"Fa...Father?" he gasped, belatedly realizing the hulking shadow looming over him in a billow of foreboding robes could only be Severus Snape. "What in the name of Merlin's bloody beard-?"

"I should be asking you that very question, Hades," Snape cut him off with an imperious flick of his obsidian gaze to the map still clutched in Hades' white-knuckled grip. "Though your presence here, lurking about on the castle grounds after curfew while clutching a highly forbidden, not to mention incredibly dangerous magical artifact...well, that rather answers inquiries before they've been posed."

Despite the veneer of scathing condemnation, Hades thought he detected a glint of something almost like...pride in the way Snape's angular features tightened. As if his son's initiative and zeal for investigating this mystery pleased the elder Slytherin on some level. Still, the Head of House did not loosen his vice-grip on Hades' shoulders.

"Explain yourself," he hissed in a low baritone that sent a thrill of trepidation down Hades' spine. "Now."

For a brief, panic-stricken moment, Hades considered lying or obfuscating the truth. After all, what understanding could Snape - Dumbledore's man on the inside - possibly have for pursuing knowledge that could deal a debilitating blow to the wavering light? But one burning look into his father's eyes purged such foolishness from Hades' mind. Instead, he drew a steadying breath and nodded.

"Pettigrew," he rumbled in a low tone. "The map showed his name...meandering across the grounds just a few minutes past. I came to investigate, and if at all possible, apprehend the rat once and for all."

Absolute silence hung between them for several fraught heartbeats, broken only by their mingling breaths misting in the frigid air. Then abruptly, Snape's grip released Hades' shoulders as he staggered backward a step, sable eyes glittering with manic intensity.

"You're certain?" Snape hissed in a tone dripping with urgency that bordered on desperation. "Positive it was Pettigrew's name you saw?"

Wordlessly, Hades proffered the map, allowing the susurrant rustling of illusory footprints and the condensing ink trails to provide all the corroboration needed. For several tense moments, Snape studied the intricate spellwork, expressions warring across his aristocratic features. At last, the Potions Master straightened and gripped Hades by the shoulder once more, propelling him back toward the castle proper in a swirl of coattails.

"Come," Snape growled, his fingers digging painfully into the meat of Hades' shoulder. "There are others who must be apprised of this development at once. I fear our success or failure in apprehending the rat may determine the ultimate course of far greater events than you can possibly imagine..."

Exchanging one last perplexed look with his ashen-faced father, Hades fell obediently into cadence alongside Snape as they hurried across the grounds at a near jog. All the while, the young Slytherin's mind whirled with burgeoning questions and swiftly coalescing suspicions.

Just what deeper mysteries had the revelation of Pettigrew's continued existence unearthed?

And who else remained blissfully unaware of the danger closing its vise around their lives?