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Rat in the Cellar


Founder’s Tavern was always busy and loud. That’s why James had chosen it for their arrival point through the floo network. Everyone there would be so busy with their mead and ales that they’d never notice three teenage boys tumble in and walk out the door. They’d agreed to meet up outside, on the stone wall of a church just a little ways off from the front doors of the tavern. James was balancing on the stone wall, walking along, his arms stretched out wide as he walked, talking to Peter, who stood on the sidewalk, looking on in awe at James’s balancing skills, when Remus emerged from the tavern. Remus walked swiftly across the street, glancing over his shoulder at the little village behind them. “This looks like a nice place to live,” he commented, looking up at James, too, as he came to a stop beside Peter.

“Yeah, it’s brilliant!” James said, “It’s mixed, not all magic like Hogsmeade is, but its fairly close to all magic. I think the muggles that live here have an inkling there’s more to the universe than their muggle eyes see, if you know what I mean. They don’t seem to be as affected by accidental magic as some muggles are. Plus, the coolest thing about it is that it’s where Godric Gryffindor is from. And Dumbledore, too. And you know Bathilda Bagshot? She wrote about half our bloody textbooks. She lives right over there.” He pointed. “My dad knows her. She’s old.”

Remus stared at the house James was pointing at, feeling as though he were having a celebrity sighting. He would have very much liked to go over and meet Bathilda Bagshot if they weren’t on a mission. “Very cool,” Remus said.

James jumped down off the stone wall, landing on the grass in the cemetery. “Beedle the Bard’s from Godric’s Hollow, too, you know, at least that’s what the legend says…. See, Ignotus Percival’s buried over there,” he said. “See that funny looking stone with that odd little rune on it?”

“The bloke from the Three Brothers?” Remus asked, blinking in surprise.

“One and the same,” James nodded.

“But that’s just a story,” Peter argued.

“Well the legend is that Beedle the Bard used to wander about in this cemetery and look for names from the stones,” James said with a shrug.

Remus stared at the stone from far off and shivered. “That’s cool.”

Peter stared, too, then turned to James and Remus, “I don’t like cemeteries.”

“Well, I hate to tell ya Pete, but we gotta cut through this one to get to my house. We could walk on down this street and go the long way about, but if we cut through here and go through those woods --” James pointed, “The field outback my place is right past those trees. The river’s down ‘round over that way, where we set up camp that time.” He made a motion indicating east of where they stood. “I think it’s best if we stick to the woods to get close. Dad said there were Death Eaters in the cul-de-sac when Sirius got here, so they may still be there. Especially if they know Snuffles is Sirius. We’ll have to be careful. In fact… I was thinking me and Pete should transform when we get to the woods and --” he held the cloak out to Remus, “You should wear that.”

“Alright,” Remus took the cloak.

The only other problem we’re gonna have is that I’m not a secret keeper. I don’t have the note from Kingsley - or whoever, but I still think it’s Kingsley - saying the address so Rey, you’re the only one that hasn’t been inside so you won’t be able to go past the Fidelus. Peter, you should be able to, ‘cos you came to my house two summers ago, same as Sirius did….” James waved for Remus and Peter to follow him as he cut through the cemetery, avoiding stepping on any of the graves in respect, weaving among the stones that dotted the churchyard. “So I’m thinking the best way to do it so none of us get caught is if Pete goes inside - as a rat, mind you - and finds Sirius and gets him to come outside. We’ll get Sirius to come out to the woods, then we’ll change back to people and you and me, Rey, we’ll use the Hormorphus on him and change him back. Then we give him his wand and he can go on back as Snuffles; he’s safer here anyway, but at least he’ll have his wand so he can change back and write us letters and whatnot.”

Remus nodded. “As long as I get to see him.”

“Yeah, we all will, mate,” James nodded vigorously. “All you gotta do, Pete, is make damn sure my mum doesn’t see you. Bloody hell, she’ll blast you to bits - she hates rodents.”

Peter gulped.

“Don’t worry, though, she’s probably knitting or cleaning or something of the like, she’ll never notice you if you’re quick and you hide as much as possible.”

“Alright…” Peter was hesitant.

They reached the edge of the woods and James led the way into the shade of the trees and Remus watched as Peter shrunk down into his rat, and James stretched up into his stag, his form even more impressive when they were amongst the trees of the stag’s natural habitat. Remus lifted the little rat onto the back of the stag, then pulled the invisibility cloak over his shoulders and head, keeping a palm pressed to the stag’s side so that James knew they hadn’t lost Peter.

James honked in his throat as they walked along, snorting and snuffling in the air and Peter climbed up his neck and settled himself on his head, stationed between the antlers like a look out, peering about with his beady little eyes. Remus stayed close, the woods dark as the sun began to set.

Finally, they reached the field and they stuck to the trees as long as they could as they approached what looked to Remus like an empty lot of land. James slowed after a bit and he lowered his head down for the rat to scurry off his head and onto a log. Then he laid down in the bracken and changed back to James, cowering down behind the log as Remus crouched beside him and held the cloak over them both like a tent. Peter the Rat trembled, staring up at them.

“Remember. Get Sirius to come out, don’t get seen,” James whispered.

The rat’s nose twitched, his whiskers wobbling.

“Go on, Wormtail.”

“Good luck!” Remus hissed.

They watched as Peter hurried off across the grass and Remus drew Sirius’s wand from his pocket and turned it over in his hand, staring down at it anxiously.

“Gonna be alright, mate,” whispered James. “Gonna see him in a moment.”

Remus smiled and held onto the wand even tighter. “Thank Merlin,” he said.

James looked over the field. “I was really scared for a time there,” he admitted finally.

“Me, too,” Remus replied. “I thought for sure he was…” he stopped, unable to say the word. “I wouldn’t be able to stand it, losing any one of you.” He paused, “We’ve all got to make it through all this rubbish with the Dark Lord. It’s positively imperative. I refuse to lose even one of you lot to this mess.”

James smiled, “We’ll all be fine, mate. You’ll see. None of us are going to die. We’ve already bloody faced Moldy Voldy loads of times! That old bastard can’t take us!” He punched Remus’s shoulder, “We’re too bloody good.”

Remus laughed, “If only we knew that for sure.”

“Did my voice quiver? Do you doubt me? I’ve taken two years of divination class, mate, I know what I’m on about!” James’s eyes sparked with humor.

Remus stared off the way Peter had gone, smiling at James’s divining.




Peter scrambled up to the house, cowering by the back door. His nose twitched and he examined the door jam. No use, he was a fat rat, no way could he squish in that tiny crack… so he ran off the stoop and along the foundation of the house, searching for some way to break in. Finally, he found the cellar storm doors and he climbed up, nudging at the wood with his little paws, finding a small crevice near the bottom, and squeezing his way through the hole. He tumbled down onto the steps and scrambled along down them, hopping one to the next ‘til he’d reached the dusty dirt floor.

The cellar was mostly empty, save for a table covered old beakers and cauldrons, all thick with dust. He ran over to the narrow wood steps that led up to a door and he climbed them quickly, his little rat claws clinging on. The door at the top had a much wider jam below it and Peter squeezed himself underneath it, peeking out tentatively, squinting into the sunlight that filled the very pristine, white room he was staring into.

It was the kitchen that he’d come upon and Mrs. Potter stood across the room at the sink, humming as she filled a tea kettle with water. She turned and walked to the stove and set a tea kettle to boil upon it… Peter inched away, tighter into the corner of the doors.

There was a bark and Dora turned around as Snuffles came bounding into the room, his tongue lolling, fur flying about. She smiled and reached down to pet Snuffles. “Do you need water, is that it?” she asked and the dog shook with excitement. “Alright… hang on then, you beast…” She reached into a cupboard and took down a bowl and aimed her wand, “Aquamenti,” she said, and Snuffles excitement was such that he nearly knocked the bowl from her hand as she bent to put it down on a placemat on the floor by the basement door.

Snuffles slurped at the water eagerly, his tongue flapping and water spraying everywhere, making a rather large mess of the floor.

“You’re such a slob,” Dora accused, grabbing a towel from the counter and sweeping it over the spilled water. A bit of the cloth slipped beneath the door jam and hit Peter and he squeaked in surprise.

Dora didn’t notice the squeak but Snuffles did. His ears went flat to his head and there came a low rumble in his throat as he lowered his head to press his big wet nose against the jam of the door and snorted loudly, smelling… Peter ran backward.

“What is it?” Dora asked, “There’s nothing in there, you mutt,” she said, “Just the basement.”

But Snuffles scratched at the door.

“It’s just the bloody basement!” Dora said, and she reached for the handle.

Peter scrambled, trying to find a shadow or some place to hide but without taking a dive over the edge of the stairs, he had no where to go… and the door swung open and Dora let out a shriek when her eyes landed on the rat. “RAT!!!!!” she cried. “CHARLUS! OH THERE’S A RAT! CHARLUS GET IN HERE!!”

Snuffles leaped forward, mouth open.

Peter squealed and ran - stairs be damned, he’d tumbled down him if he had to - and he leaped. He was nearly caught mid-air by Snuffles, and felt the wind of it as the powerful jaw clamped ‘round the empty air just behind him. He hit the wood of the third step down and scrambled, throwing himself down another few steps in desperation, heart slamming in his chest as Snuffles ran after him. He was gonna die, he just knew it, he was about to be crushed by the strength of Snuffles’s jaw as soon as he could catch him.…

Dora was screaming still, “GET IT SNUFFLES, GET IT!” she shrieked, “CHARLUS!! CHARLUS FLEAMONT POTTER!! GET OUT HERE! YOUR RUDDY DOG’S GONE AND CAUGHT HIMSELF A RAT!!!” she slammed the door shut.

Peter and Snuffles reached the bottom of the steps and Pete ran for the desk with the dusty cauldrons, running up the side of the desk and leaping into one of the cauldrons. Snuffles jumped up and knocked them down, sending Peter - ears ringing from the clanging of the cauldron as it hit the floor - scurrying once more for another hiding place but there really wasn’t any there. He found his way into the corner, pawing at the dirt, terrified as Snuffles came up behind him. He sat there squealing, squeaking, crying, as Snuffles growled, standing before him…

And then Peter realized what an idiot he was being and just as Snuffles lunged forward -- he changed back into a boy and Snuffles banged into him roughly, head first, right into his pudgy belly.

Snuffles recovered from the impact, then stood there before Peter in apparent surprise. He glanced up the steps. “Bloody hell!!!” Peter gasped. “Stop it, you idiot. It’s me!”

Upstairs, the sound of Dora and Charlus’s voices were coming closer to the door. “You gotta find a way to get us outside,” Peter said thickly. “Without getting me killed,” he added. Snuffles stared at Peter with wide doggy eyes. The door upstairs started to unlatch. “Hurry!” Peter added, and he changed back into a rat.

“SNUFFLES, DID YOU GET IT BOY?” Charlus charged down the stairs, wand at the ready, and Snuffles did the only thing he could do -- he leaped forward and grabbed hold of the rat, which scrambled, terrified in the jaws of the dog… “DID YOU KILL IT?” Charlus reached the end of the stairs, “Or are you leaving the dirty work to me?”

Peter realized suddenly what Snuffles was doing and so he let himself go limp.

Charlus held his wand aloft, illuminating dog and rat alike and, seeing the limp rat in Snuffle’s jaw, he called out, “Dora, love, Snuffles has killed it! Not to worry! Blimey that is a fat rat…” Snuffles and Charlus hurried back up the stairs to the kitchen.

“OH!” Dora cried, seeing the rat dangling from Snuffles’s mouth. “That is positively disgusting!” she said thickly.

Charlus opened up the back door. “At least it’s dead…” he waved for Snuffles to go outside, “Go on. Go get rid of it in the yard.”

Snuffles tore off across the field, carrying the rat, headed for the woods.

Charlus looked over at Dora, “See, I told you he’d come in handy… Perhaps we could train him to do that with those pesty garden gnomes in the summer.” Dora looked quite pale at the suggestion.