Rebecca Weasley and the prisoner of Azkaban

Don't Kill Pettigrew

Rebecca's pov

“Come off it.” Ron said weakly. “Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his
hands on Scabbers? I mean…Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how’s he supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?”

“You know, Sirius, that’s a fair question.” Lupin said, turning to Black and frowning slightly. “How did you find out where he was?”

Black put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others.  It was the photograph of our family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron’s shoulder, was Scabbers.

“How did you get this?” Lupin asked Black.

“Fudge.” Black said. “When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy’s shoulder… I knew him at once… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts… to where Harry was…”

“My God.” Lupin said softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. “His front paw…”

“What about it?” Ron said defiantly.

“He’s got a toe missing.” Black said.

“Of course.” Lupin breathed. “So simple… so brilliant… he cut it off himself?”

“Just before he transformed.” Black said. “When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped downinto the sewer with the other rats…”

“Didn’t you ever hear, Ron?” Lupin asked. “The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger.”

“Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He’s been in my family for ages, right 'Becca?” Ron said.

"Yeah, he's been in the family for-" I was cut off.

“Twelve years.” Lupin finished. “Didn’t you ever wonder why he was living so long?”

“We- we’ve been taking good care of him!” Ron said.

“Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?” Lupin said. “I’d guess he’s been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again…”

“He’s been scared of that mad cat!” Ron said, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.

“This cat isn’t mad.” Black said hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks’s fluffy head. “He’s the most intelligent of his kind I’ve ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me… Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he’s been helping me…”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn’t… so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me… As I understand it, he took them from a boy’s bedside table… But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it. This cat —Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets… I supposed he bit himself… Well, faking his own death had worked once.”