Myst at Hogwarts Part 5

Myst wasn’t nearly as impressed by the boat ride as some of his fellow first years but the fact that the boats were charmed to travel across the water under their own power was interesting and made him curious if they could be checked out during the year. He pulled his attention off the rather impressive castle and glanced at the fourth person in the boat that had jumped into their boat when Hagrid had announced that they shouldn’t have more than four people in a boat.

He didn’t remember Katrina McDougal from the books or movies which was a damn shame because she was about what you’d expect if you took a hyperactive child, mixed in a kitten trying to be fierce, gave her magic then fed the resulting unholy combination way too much chocolate. He was a bit surprised that Neville had managed to answer most of her questions without retreating into his shell but she seemed a bit more socially aware than Hermione which was just as well. “Did you at least enjoy the train ride?”

Katrina kept her attention on the awe inspiring castle she was looking forward to exploring as she replied, “I would probably have enjoyed it more if I hadn’t had to jump a train yesterday so I could spend the night and catch the Hogwarts’ train all the way back to Scotland.”

“Yeah, that would be more than a little frustrating,” Myst admitted with a wince. “Where abouts do you live?”

“Near as I can tell, about thirty minutes away from Hogsmeade by truck, probably a lot less by broom. I’m sort of hoping I can get permission to leave from Hogwarts for the Holidays.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath considering the lack of logic in the wizarding world but you might be able to get permission.”

“It’s tradition,” Neville admitted as the boats pulled up to the docks. “Sort of like not telling future students about how the houses are sorted.”

Myst grinned as he got out of the boat then helped the rest of his hopefully new friends out of the boat starting with Hermione. “With my luck, we’ll have to use a magical artifact of doom to figure out which house we’ll be in and I’ll have to put up with a roommate that snores badly enough he could wake the dead.”

Hermione looked down her nose at Myst. “They’re not going to use an artifact of doom to sort everyone, it’s probably an essay.”

“Maybe we’ll get to fight a troll or a hellhound,” Katrina mused, sounding far too happy about the prospects for the nervous first years listening.

“Or maybe they’ll just ask us where we want to go?” Neville asked hopefully.

“In that case, you’ll end up in Hufflepuff,” Draco said with a sneer.

Myst snorted. “Your mouth is moving and sound is coming out, you should fix that.”

Draco glared at Harry. ”You’re going to regret this.”

“Let’s face it, we were never going to be friends,” Myst explained calmly as McGonagall opened the door to the great hall. He briefly considered seeing how far he could push Draco’s buttons but sadly or fortunately depending on how you looked at it, he decided that driving the asshole insane could wait until he deal with his father being on the board of directors.

Myst was less than impressed with the sorting than he probably should be, mostly because it was a bit boring watching a bunch of people put a hat on. Sure, you got the occasional frown or panicked look on the children’s faces but for the most part the hat was reasonably decent at placing the students where they were supposed to, not surprising as it had been doing the same thing for over a thousand years.

He was more interested in the staff table, everyone looked enough like their movie selves that it was a little disturbing. He did his best not to make eye contact with Dumbledore or the back of Quirrell's head as he scanned the staff table, wanting to make sure he gave them a chance to see that he didn’t have his lightning bolt scar.

He turned his attention back to the sorting when McGonagall said Katrina’s name. He wasn’t all that surprised when the hat barely touched Katrina’s head before it shouted, “Gryffindor!” much like it had done for Malfoy with Slytherin.

Myst was just glad that both Neville and Hermione ended up in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. He ‘absently’ brushed his hair out of his face as he watched the next couple people get sorted while he waited for his name to get called. He did his best to ignore the way everyone went silent when Harry’s name was called as he walked over to the stool and sat down, hoping the hat didn’t sell him out to Dumbledore.

McGonagall glanced at Harry’s forehead then did a double take when she realized he didn’t have a scar. “What happened to your scar?”

“What scar?” Myst asked as innocently as he could, trying not to laugh at the shocked look on her face.

“The one you got as a baby,” McGonagall replied, a bit flustered.

“Scars tend to fade over time,” Myst replied with a shrug.

McGonagall blinked as she realized that in the middle of the great hall was the wrong place for that particular conversation. She set the hat on the child’s head, wondering what had happened to Harry’s curse scar as they typically didn’t just go away.

“Huh, that’s new,” the Sorting Hat mused.

“Hello,” Myst said under his breath.

“First time I’ve have to sort an adult if you don’t count the occasional upper year transfer student.”

‘I don’t suppose you can just stick me in Gryffindor and call it good?’ Myst thought, not sure if the Hat could actually hear his thoughts.

‘I think not. Let’s see… You’d be bored to tears in Hufflepuff, Slytherin would give you plenty of excitement but you’d probably quietly murder some of the idiots and pin it on Malfoy and no, I can’t reveal the secrets of anyone I sort until they’re dead. Let’s avoid the bloodbath and go with Gryffindor if only because you’ll need someone to keep you from turning into a mad scientist… and as poorly equipped as they are to stop you it’s still better than Ravenclaw where they would actively encourage you.’

Myst sighed in relief as the hat called out, “Gryffindor!”

McGonagall smiled as she pulled the hat off Harry’s head. “Welcome to Gryffindor.”

“Thanks,” Myst said as he headed toward the cheering table and took a seat next to Hermione.

“Congratulations,” Hermione whispered.

“Thanks,” he said in a whisper. He did his best to ignore everyone staring at his forehead as he watched the rest of the sorting.

He wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed or not that Ron managed to get into Gryffindor. He was cautiously optimistic that this version of Ron wouldn’t be a backstabbing bastard like in some of the fanfiction he’d read, but that didn’t mean he was going to let him drag him down into mediocrity like in the books. He was also glad that Ron only occasionally chewed with his mouth open when the food arrived. It looked like fanfiction wasn’t all that accurate at least this early on.

By the end of the opening feast he was more than a bit tired of people asking him about his scar every couple minutes despite the fact that they’d heard him tell the last person that asked, that scars heal and fade over time or that books aren’t always correct. The ‘look’ he’d gotten from Hermione for that one had been worth it.

The Hogwarts song left Myst curious if Dumbledore was trolling people or just had that bad of taste in music, given the man’s slight smirk he was leaning toward him being a troll. Following Percy to the Gryffindor dorms made him have a lot more sympathy for Harry and Ron getting lost in the books. He was fairly sure that he’d get the hang of the place eventually. Sadly, for his desire to practice some wandless magic and crash, Ron decided that telling Percy about Scabbers in the middle of the common room was the way to go.

“I’d rather wait for the professor,” Myst quickly cut in when it appeared that Percy was going to attempt to restore Scabbers to normal.

“I’m perfectly capable of reversing a first year transfiguration,” Percy replied stiffly.

“This isn’t a first year mistake,” Myst said firmly. “I’ve used that spell over a hundred times while I was practicing creating the perfect bronze box.” He wasn’t sure it was quite a hundred but he’d lost count somewhere in the seventies so it was probably over a hundred by this point. “I want to know why it didn’t work on Scabbers which means I want McGonagall there because I don’t think it’s a normal rat.”

“I found the rat years ago,” Percy argued.

“Yeah? How long do normal rats live?” Myst asked, more than a little frustrated that his carefully constructed plans were on the brink of falling apart because of Percy.

Percy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“A couple years which means the rat has to be magical.”

“Just fix it, we can ask Professor McGonagall about it in the morning,” Ron argued.

Myst snorted. “Or we can leave the potentially dangerous shape changing demon as a box and get McGonagall or Flitwick to check it.”

Percy shook his head. “We can’t bother the Professor for every little problem.”

“I’ve read about chameleon ghouls, animagi, and rabbits that transform into hats. There are plenty of dangerous magical creatures running around. I know for a fact that I didn’t screw up the spell which means that there is something wrong with that rat. I share a dorm with Ron, I’d rather not have a demonic rat kill me in my sleep.”

Hermione spoke up, “The professor can’t have gone to sleep yet, you’re allowed to escort students after curfew.”

“You want me to bother the professor over a miscast spell?” Percy asked in disbelief.

“If I’m wasting the Professor’s time, I’ll take the detention, this is important Percy,” Myst argued.

“This is a waste of time,” Percy grumbled as he turned and headed toward the door, snuff box in hand. “Ron, Potter, follow me, the rest of you go to sleep.”

Myst ignored Ron’s glare as he followed Percy, rather relieved that he’d at least get a chance to make his case to McGonagall. He shivered slightly as they walked through the creepily lit corridors. ‘I really need to figure out how to duplicate the hand of glory in a way that doesn’t scream dark wizard with no fashion sense.’

Professor McGonagall opened the door with a rather stern look that caused Ron to gulp. “Is there a reason you’re here with two first years?”

“Mr Potter was testing the rodent to snuffbox spell on the train with Ron’s permission,” Percy explained.

“Which I wouldn’t have given if I’d known he couldn’t turn him back,” Ron complained.

McGonagall glanced between Harry and Ron. “Explain.”

Myst sighed. “I’ve lost count of how many times I cast the reversal spell while practicing the mouse to snuff box spell over the summer, at least a hundred. It shouldn’t have failed if Ron’s rat is normal.”

“You could have been nervous,” McGonagall pointed out.

Myst shook his head. “I wasn’t. It was a simple spell I’d practiced over a hundred times and the box turned out fine, if I’d been nervous the box would have had a tail or the designs would have been off, they weren’t. I’ve read about animagi, chameleon ghouls and transforming rabbits. The book on animagi mentions a spell to force people back into their human forms.”

“You were reading about animagi?” Percy asked in disbelief. “That’s advanced magic.”

Myst rolled his eyes. “I happen to like books. Being able to turn into an animal and back whenever you want sounds right useful.”

“It’s also a dangerous branch of magic that shouldn’t be attempted without supervision,” McGonagall warned.

“Does that mean you can suggest some decent tutors on the subject for when I get better?” Myst asked, knowing she wouldn’t help him until at least fifth year at the earliest.

McGonagall frowned slightly as she took a second look at the snuff box that Harry had transfigured, it was certainly better quality than she normally saw first years make or even most fifth years when it showed up on the owls as a random test of cumulative skills. ‘Not all that surprising considering James’ skill at transfiguration but rather impressive all the same. He might have a point about the rat and it doesn’t hurt anything to check. “Put the box on the ground and step back. I’ll reverse the transfiguration then I’ll cast a couple spells to make sure the rat isn’t dangerous.”

Percy put the snuff box on the ground then stepped back. “Sorry to bother you with this Professor.”

“It is probably nothing but we take the security of our students seriously.”

Myst had a hard time not laughing at McGonagall’s delusional statement as she conjured a cage around the snuff box then used the counter charm, having no issue changing the box back into Scabbers. He plastered a shocked look on his face and jumped back when McGonagall used the animagius revealing spell on Peter and he turned back into a man in his early thirties, the bottom of his body bursting out of the thin wire cage while it collapsed around his head. “I was right!”

“Pettigrew?” McGonagall asked in disbelief as she recognized the man that was trying to pull the cage off his head.

Myst quickly pulled his wand from its wrist holster, pointed it at Peter and shouted, “Stupefy!”

McGonagall blinked as the red ball of energy hit Peter and dropped him unconscious. “What was that for?”

“He was obviously up to no good.”

“What did you do to my rat?” Ron asked in shock.

Myst frowned. “Pettigrew? As in the same Pettigrew that my godfather was accused of murdering?”

“He certainly looks like it,” McGonagall admitted warily, knowing that her plans for sleep had just flown out the window.

“This is where we call the ministry, right?” Myst asked innocently, not wanting Peter to escape and cause problems early.

“This is where you go back to bed,” McGonagall said firmly.

“Considering my godfather got sent to prison for murdering someone that is still very much alive, I think not,” Myst replied as firmly as he could. “We need to call the aurors and the headmaster to make sure he doesn’t escape before he can be questioned.”

McGonagall rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Percy, please escort your brother back to the dorms and make sure he stays there. Mr. Potter and I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore.”

“Let’s go,” Percy said as he grabbed Ron’s arm and directed him back toward the dorms before he could protest.

Myst had to work to keep his expression scared or at least not gleeful that his plan to capture Pettigrew hadn’t gone completely sideways. He was still have expecting the ministry to screw something up or for something to go wrong. The first thing he’d done once Ron and Percy left was steal the two wands he was carrying as he wasn’t sure how long the rat would be unconscious. “Can we tie him up and maybe conjure some wire mesh so he can’t just turn into a rat and escape when our backs are turned?”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow then tied him up and conjured a cage around him that should keep him from escaping if he changed back into a rat. “If he twitches, stun him. We can always apologize later if he’s innocent,” she ordered wanting to give the boy something constructive to do so he wouldn’t worry.

Myst blinked as McGonagall walked over to the fire and grabbed some powder out of an urn to call her contact. ‘Yeah, maybe she’s more practical than the books make her out to be.’ The fact that the first person McGonagall called was Mad Eye, did a lot to alleviate his concerns about Peter’s existence getting swept under the rug.

“Minerva, what can I do for you?” Moody asked, knowing it was unlikely to be a social call considering how late it was.

“I might have found Peter Pettigrew,” McGonagall explained, still not quite sure why Pettigrew had stayed in hiding for the better part of a decade. “He’s currently stunned, tied up and in a cage but I need someone from the ministry I trust to investigate and to possibly arrest him. He’s missing a finger which was the only thing the aurors found when they investigated his death.”

“I remember,” Moody admitted. He hadn’t been working the night the aurors had finally hauled Sirius in but he’d heard the stories. “Stunned, tied up, and in a cage?” he asked, approval coloring his tone.

“At the very least he’s guilty of being an unregistered animagus, I want to know what happened...” she trailed off not wanting to bring up the subject in front of Harry.

“I have a new trainee, permission for us to step through?” Moody asked, already preparing for the paperwork in his head. It was the real curse of the job, not the occasional spell you caught while doing the work, but the endless rolls of parchments you had to fill out to prove you’d followed every little rule some ivory tower politician had decided was necessary to keep the peace.

“Of course,” McGonagall replied as she stepped back from the fireplace.

Moody stepped through the fire and out into McGonagall’s office. He smirked as he saw Pettigrew tied up and in a iron cage. “Nice work.”

“Potter is the one that stunned him,” McGonagall admitted as Nymphadora Tonks stepped out of the fireplace after Moody. “I simply followed his suggestions on how best to keep a rat animagus from escaping.” Her smile, which she quickly hid from the student, spoke volumes about how much amusement she’d gotten from that little conversation.

‘The best way would be to let you turn into a cat and eat him but sadly, we sort of need him alive,’ Myst thought to himself. “Good thing I checked, he had a spare wand on him,” he said as he held up the 13 inch yew wand by the tip so that Moody could get a good look.

“Let me see that,” Moody said as he held out his hand for the wand.

Myst handed him the wand. “I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to wake up and curse us.”

“Good thinking,” Moody replied as he pulled out his own wand and tapped the top of the yew wand. “Prior Incantato.”

Myst didn’t have to fake the interest as he watched a green image appear over Riddle’s wand that looked a lot like the killing curse from the movie.

Tonks frowned as she saw the image of the killing curse above the wand. ‘That can’t be good.’

Moody looked down at Peter with a scowl. “Possession of a wand that has cast the killing curse is enough to bring him in for questioning even ignoring the rest of the questions about where he’s been for the last decade.”

“Is it even legal to have more than one wand?” Myst asked, curious because none of the books had mentioned it and he was planning on having as many backup foci as possible anyway so it was best he knew what laws he was breaking.

“It’s not illegal, but it is unusual. Some of the more experienced aurors have been known to carry a backup wand on occasion. The practice has saved my life more than a couple times,” he said casting a glance at his trainee to make sure she’d listened.

McGonagall glanced at the clock then looked back at Moody. “Is there anything else you need Mr. Potter for; it’s getting late?”

Moody glanced at Tonks. “Tonks needs to work on her interviewing skills and I need a statement about how you found out about Pettigrew.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Myst offered as Tonks got her journal out of her pocket and a quill so that she could take notes.

“Please proceed,” Tonks said with a smile.

“I was on the train to Hogwarts talking with some new friends when Ronald Weasley showed up looking for a compartment. We got talking about the spells we already knew and I volunteered to cast the mouse to snuffbox spell to show off a bit. After Ron agreed to let me use his pet rat as a test subject, I turned his rat into a snuff box. Sadly the counterspell failed which got me suspicious as I hadn’t had a problem the rest of the times I’d practiced the spell. Ron was a bit upset about the whole thing, which to be fair I understand. He brought it up with one of the current prefects and I convinced him that there was something strange enough about the situation to warrant talking to McGonagall. She was professional enough to humor me about a possible risk to the school.”

Tonks finished copying everything down. “What happened next?”

Myst shrugged. “He turned into a person so I stunned him while he was trying to deal with the remains of the cage that the professor had conjured.”

“Why did you stun him?”

“Because he was a grown man pretending to be a boy’s pet rat,” Myst replied a touch sarcastically. “I figured better safe than sorry.”

“Good instincts,” Moody said proudly.

“Why show off that particular spell?” Tonks asked as she put her quill and journal back in her expanded pocket.

“I didn’t have anything that was broken to show off my skill with repairing things,” Myst admitted.

Moody said, “In that case, you’re free to go. I need to get the prisoner into a cell so that we can question him.”

“What’s going to happen with my godfather?” Myst asked. “Will he get a new trial considering he was tossed in prison for killing Pettigrew? Something that he obviously didn’t do.”

“That will be up to the head of the auror department to decide but most likely.” Moody was planning on making sure Sirius got new trial.

“Good,” Myst agreed, hoping that nothing went sideways with Sirius’ trial.

McGonagall glanced at Tonks then looked at Moody. “Can I borrow your trainee for a bit? I need to make sure Mr. Potter doesn’t get lost on the way back to the dorms.”

“That’s fine,” Moody agreed, wanting to ask McGonagall a couple questions about James’ son without him in the room.

“Let’s go,” Tonks said as she headed for the door.

“Thank you for showing me the way back to the dorm, Hogwarts is a maze,” Myst complained good naturedly.