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Disclaimer: Own Harry Potter, I do not. Own all my plot ideas and anything that doesn’t fall under the category of ‘what-will-get-me-eaten-alive-by-Rowling’s-lawyers,’ I do.



Alchemical Reactions
Chapter Twelve
Ignorance is Bliss

Severus Snape was a suspicious man. He suspected everyone and everything of misdeeds, from large to small, and he was often right, though he did dislike the fact that he was often right about others’ larger misdeeds. This was most likely why he took the chance to snoop when dropping off Lupin’s potion in his office. Well, that, and the fact that Lupin was a werewolf and had been a friend of the Azkaban escapee and mass-murderer Sirius Black.

Lupin himself was not in, something Severus found to be very surprising. The man tended to spend as much time in his office as possible the night before the full moon, so that he would not disturb anyone should he have miscalculated the moon phases and times. His caution was what made him barely tolerable, though Severus could not help disliking the man. As it was, the fact that he was not in his office so close to the full moon was a warning sign to Severus.

Lupin’s office was meticulously clean, almost as if he never used it. Several Dark Arts detectors stood on his desk, none of them lighting up. Severus was extremely surprised that he actually had them, as they were likely to go off while Lupin was in the office and it was close to the full moon. Next to a large stack of parchment, the third year’s exams, an aging piece of parchment was spread out, showing a map of Hogwarts. It was surprisingly detailed, and when Severus peered closer he could clearly see a dot labelled as ‘Albus Dumbledore’ pacing in its office. Eyes widening, he searched further, this time looking for Lupin.

He had probably stared at the map for at least fifteen minutes before he found the tiny dot labelled as ‘Remus Lupin.’ It was standing inside the Whomping Willow, beside Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and two others that Severus dared not believe to be true. Yet, there it was in plain black and white—Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.

Severus had a fierce hatred for the Marauders, his tormentors while in school. Yet, he was loyal to Dumbledore and knew what it meant if Peter Pettigrew was still alive—and that Dumbledore would want him to step in to find the evidence to prove Black innocent. As much as he loathed the man, he respected Dumbledore far more, and knew without a doubt what he would have to do, as much as he disliked the idea. He would have to save Black and Pettigrew, proving the escaped convict to be innocent. He nearly snarled at the thought.

Quickly, he exited Lupin’s office and headed out of the castle towards the Whomping Willow. He stood in the shadows, procrastinating entering the tunnel. He had nearly been killed in this spot twenty years ago…it was not a pleasant thought in the slightest. He stood there for what felt like ages, wrestling his fear into submission.

It was from those same shadows he observed Harold Flamel attempt to access the Whomping Willow. Somehow the boy had found out about whatever was going on in there, he knew it. A small part of him wanted to berate the boy, but a much larger part saw much of his own curiosity reflected in the boy’s eyes. The thought of someone else with him, no matter how cowardly the thought was, reassured him enough to step out of the shadows and face Flamel.

“Mr. Flamel?” he asked, stepping out of the shadows carefully as to not startle the boy.

“Yes, professor?” Flamel responded, not really displaying any shock at seeing him there. Severus thought he saw a spark in Flamel’s hand, however, but when he looked again it was gone.

Severus hesitated slightly, before saying, “Get back to the school.” While he had mixed motives about having the poor boy come along with him, it really wasn’t good form to encourage a student to tag along to hunt down a dangerous fugitive and a werewolf.

“No,” Flamel replied bluntly. Severus almost smirked in triumph at the boy’s defiance of authority, but suppressed it almost as soon as the urge had come. “I owe Fred and George Weasley. That was definitely a member of their family that went in there. I’m not leaving.”

Severus stared at Flamel. He hadn’t been aware that the boy was friends with those two trouble makers, though it certainly fit his dislike for authority. He was an interesting character…a social outcast by choice, though he kept a few friends. Flamel had an inquisitive mind, was stubborn, hard-working, and cunning. A mix of all houses…he probably ought to start a betting pool in the staff lounge.

“Gryffindor or Slytherin, Mr. Flamel?” Severus decided on asking, checking the boy’s motives. If he was going in just to say he had fought a werewolf and won—or, more likely that not, lost—then Severus would send him back to the castle, fears be damned.

“Slytherin,” Flamel replied, staring at Severus as if asking him to challenge his response. Severus didn’t, though he was sorely tempted to. He knew the boy was mostly going in because he was friends with the twins—not that he had some deep, dark, ulterior motive as most Slytherins did.

“Follow me, Mr. Flamel,” he said, picking up a branch and touching it to a knob on the tree. He led the boy into the dark tunnel, careful not trip over anything or display his fear at seeing this place again in front of the boy. It was probably the one and only time he’d ever be grateful that James Potter had actually been alive back then…

Snape shook his head as if to clear away the memories, and then began talking to Flamel. “There’s a high possibility that we’ll be confronted with a werewolf, Mr. Flamel. I’m sure you’re not aware, but Professor Lupin is a werewolf, and I’m afraid that he’s at the end of this tunnel right now. Tonight is a full moon.”

Flamel nodded, not even fazed by this information. “So that’s what that was,” he muttered, almost too low for Severus to catch. His words didn’t make much sense to Severus, who simply filed it away in his brain as ‘information that doesn’t help to explain the puzzle of Harold Flamel.’ Most unfortunately, he had a rather large amount of memories such as those.

“There is also a high possibility that there will be one, if not two, escaped convicts in the room.”

“Oh?” Flamel asked. Severus could almost picture him raising one eyebrow simply from the inflection in his tone.

“Sirius Black. And one of the people he allegedly murdered—Peter Pettigrew. So if you would like to return to the castle, I highly advise doing so now.” Severus almost cursed himself to sending the boy away, but he knew that no matter how many terrible memories he had of this damn place, it was no situation to place a thirteen-year-old in.

“And you know this /how/, sir?” Flamel asked, stopping in the tunnel. Severus paused with him, knowing just how suspicious it sounded. He stared hard at Flamel, his eyes straining through the darkness (he had refused to use a light spell, and the boy hadn’t protested). He could have sworn that there was a flicker of light in the place where Flamel’s hand was, but when he looked again that elusive flicker was gone. He must be imagining things.

“The professors have a way to keep track of who’s on the grounds of the castle,” he said, not admitting to finding such a map. If any student knew about it, it would be the one in front of him, having heard of it from the Weasley twins. He would likely do anything to access it—most students would.

He couldn’t see the nod that Flamel gave, but it was clear he accepted this situation when he continued walking, ignoring Severus.

“Who else is at the end of this tunnel?” Flamel asked abruptly, several minutes later.

“Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley,” Severus replied, not seeing any reason to withhold this information. It wasn’t as if the two of them were dangerous in any way and Severus had already listed the three main dangers of this jaunt. It was unlikely the boy would turn around now.

Flamel did not reply, instead quickening his pace. Severus did not know what exactly it was in reaction to. Was it the fact that the Longbottom boy was there, or the youngest male Weasley? Or perhaps both? He highly doubted that Flamel was friends with Weasley, as their personalities would clash, but then again, he did not know the boy apart from a few in-depth intellectual debates. Still, it was much more likely he was friends with Longbottom, but even that didn’t make much sense to Severus. He hated enigmas.

They arrived in the basement of an old building, dust coating everything. Severus had never made it this far down the tunnel before—he had been stopped by Potter before even entering the dusty building. There was a large streak in the middle of the floor, as if something heavy had been dragged to clear away the dust. Footprints were also evident, as were a few paw prints.

Severus bent down, looking closely at the paw prints. “These aren’t werewolf tracks.”

“Good, he hasn’t changed yet. I thought the moon hadn’t risen yet, but I wasn’t sure,” Flamel stated matter-of-factly.

The two of them walked slowly up the stairs. Severus winced as they creaked, but he followed the clean trail among the dust anyways. At the top of the stairs a door was halfway ajar, spilling light into the corridor. Before Severus could stop him, Flamel was in the room. He quickly followed, just in time to hear words he thought he would never ever hear.

“James?” the voice was raspy and much older than Severus remembered, but he still recognized it. “You’re alive?”

Severus’s brain was racing, putting the pieces together. That niggling sense of familiarity, that wariness around him…

Another voice, this one much more easily recognized. “Not James. Harry Potter,” Remus Lupin stated calmly.

Severus could barely think. Too many revelations, too many shocks…he reacted in instinct. He shot two stunning spells towards Lupin and Black, not even taking in the fact that two more followed his, coming directly from the boy in front of him. He turned his wand onto Flamel—no, Potter—and was about to cast another stunner before he was disarmed.

Severus stared as Potter pointed his wand at him and moved him towards the other side of the room. Instead of letting his thoughts consume him, he began to sort them out in his mind. This James Potter’s son? It was absolutely ridiculous, entirely unheard of. The boy was practically the antithesis of all that James had been…it was as if they were only genetically the same and otherwise someone had messed around with the personality gene to create someone so much like Severus himself it was startling. If anything, the boy was more like Lily had been…

Severus just couldn’t accept it. It was impossible that the boy pointing the wand at him was James Potter’s son.

**

Harry was breathing hard, not from exertion but from the rush of adrenaline that had appeared upon the announcement of his true identity. Though he didn’t want to acknowledge it, his primary emotion was fear. Fear of what would happen as a result of tonight; fear of what Dumbledore would do; fear of the reactions of his few friends.

He pointed his wand at Snape and gestured for him to move towards another one of the ruined four posters in the room, seeing as Ron was lying on the first. He ignored the shouting coming from Ron and Neville, their exclamations at his identity, and instead cast a silencing charm on Ron, using Snape’s wand instead of his own, not giving away his abilities. Neville quickly quieted, staring wide-eyed at his friend.

“Harry, what—”

“Not now, Neville,” Harry said impatiently. “Could you just do me a favour and tell me what’s going on in here? Then we’ll deal with the rest.” /If I can deal with the rest, /Harry added mentally and refused to think any further. Merlin, this was such a disaster!

“Well Ron and I were just visiting Hagrid and as we were leaving Scabbers—that’s his rat, Harry—ran from his hands towards the Whomping Willow. We followed, when a large black dog pounced on Ron. Oh, how could I forget! Sirius Black is an animagus! He’s the black dog. Dunno what he wants with us…” Neville shuddered. “Seemed to be more interested in the rat. He started ranting about how Pettigrew was an animagus and how he was framed, and that’s when you came in and he thought you were James Potter…”

Harry nodded. “Alright then. Damage control,” he said, grimacing. “You said he thought that the rat was Pettigrew?”

Neville nodded. “But he’d dead, isn’t he?”

“Ought to be,” Harry replied, looking thoughtful. He knew the story of his parents’ murder very well. Sirius Black had betrayed them, but had been hunted down by Peter Pettigrew. Black had blown up a street full of Muggles and all they had found of Pettigrew was a finger. Black had been immediately sent to Azkaban, no trial given.

However…if Black’s ramblings had some sense of truth in them and Peter Pettigrew was in this room right now, a lot would have to be rethought. If it was possible that Black wasn’t as guilty as everyone had thought, and if that was the case there would be serious ramifications. There was one way to check; the spell to reverse animagus transformations and a vial of Veritaserum. He had the first, but the second…

Harry turned to Snape. “Do you have Veritaserum on you, Professor?” he asked, hoping the man would ignore the fact that he was being held at wand point.

Snape sneered. “Of course.”

“Place it on the floor in front of Neville,” Harry ordered, keeping his wand pointed straight at the Potions Master. “Then back away slowly.”

Snape did as ordered, glaring at Harry all the while. Harry ignored him in favour of watching his actions and making sure that he didn’t pull out another wand or something equally as deadly.

“Thank you, Professor. Neville, could you please hand it to me?” the boy did as asked, bringing the crystal clear vial to Harry. Before taking it Harry scanned it briefly by turning up his Magic Sight level. This way he would be able to tell if there was any magic there keyed to him or something of the sort, as it was very likely that Snape could do a bit of magic without a wand.

The vial was clean. Harry took it and sniffed it. It was Veritaserum—the consistency was correct, there was no odour, and it was perfectly clear. There was nothing else to show it for what it truly was that was readily accessible to him, so he would just have to trust the Potions Master as much as possible considering the situation.

Harry used Snape’s wand to summon the rat towards him, mentally cringing as he did so. He absolutely loathed rodents. Probably some suppressed childhood incident or something similar… As it was, he half hoped that this rat wouldn’t really be a rat—then it wouldn’t be nearly as torturous to hold one.

He placed the rat on the floor, stunning it as soon as it left his grip. The thing had been struggling in his hand for a long time now. He kept one wand pointed at Snape and the other on the rat. He quickly incanted the spell to reverse the animagus transformation, keeping a close eye on as he did so. A first nothing happened, but several seconds later the rat was a balding forty-something year old man.

Neville was the first to notice. “Harry—”

“Not now Neville,” replied Harry, who was staring intently at the man who had caused so much misery in his life.

“But—”

“It’s alright Neville,” came a quiet voice from behind Harry. “I won’t attack him. He’s helped prove what Sirius and I have been trying to tell you. But, I do have to wonder, did Severus never teach you that Werewolves have a greater resistance to stunning spells and generally wake up much sooner than your average witch or wizard?”

Harry had spun around at the sound of Remus Lupin’s voice, wand pointed at Remus instead of Snape. Snape made as if to lunge for his wand, but Harry already had the spell to incarcerate him in ropes out of his mouth before the man could do anything.

“I won’t do anything, Harry. I do want to speak with you, however, once this is all over…I knew your parents.”

“Which means you knew both Pettigrew and Black. Please, Lupin, you’re as much involved as they are.”

Snape snarled from within his bonds. “I knew that you were helping Black into the castle!” He began ranting. It appeared as if he had been bottling up all his hatred for years now. “I told the Headmaster over and over again you could not be trusted, but he—”

He had been cut off mid sentence by a well placed silencing spell from Harry. “I just want to get to the bottom of this. I’ll be interrogating Pettigrew now. I suppose you’re all witnesses or something.” He took the vial of Veritaserum and carefully pried open Pettigrew’s mouth, placing three drops inside. The whole time he kept his magic barely leashed, wary of both professors, Ron, and even Neville.

“Ennervate,” he intoned, waking Pettigrew.

“What is your full name?” Harry asked, standing in front of Pettigrew and leaving only Neville at his back.

“Peter Percival Pettigrew,” was the reply, all inflection erased from his voice.

“Were you the Secret Keeper for James and Lily Potter?” he asked, jumping right into it.

Pettigrew didn’t even put up a fight. “Yes.”

“Did you betray their location to Voldemort?” A gasp came from Neville at the use of Voldemort’s name without any of the euphemisms, but it was quickly silenced by Pettigrew’s prompt response.

“Yes.”

Harry refrained himself from asking why, though he was sorely tempted to do so. It wasn’t relevant, however, and he knew he had to finish with this so that he could deal with the repercussions of the revelation of his identity. Proving a man innocent and another guilty at the same time was just a bonus.

“Did Sirius Black kill all those Muggles on the first of November in 1981?”

“No.”

“Who did?”

“I did.”

“How did you frame him?”

“I shouted that he had betrayed Lily and James before blowing up the whole street and transforming into a rat. I cut off my finger before doing that, so it looked like I was dead.”

Harry stunned him again, disgusted. It looked as if his animagus form truly suited him.

“What do we do with him?” he asked, looking at Lupin.

“Bring him to Dumbledore, he’ll know what to do,” the professor replied, slightly startled at the vehemence in Harry’s voice.

“No. I’ll take him to the Ministry. Not Black as well—they’ll probably have the Dementors give him the Kiss on sight. The name Flamel has some pull there.”

Lupin looked as if he was about to protest, but stopped at the look Harry gave him.

“Look, Lupin. I know you want to deal out justice and whatnot, but as you have correctly surmised, they were my parents. It would be better if Black were free instead of killing the man he was initially accused of murdering.”

Lupin nodded, agreeing with Harry’s points. “I never did want to become a murderer, anyways. He’s your godfather, you know.”

“Who, Pettigrew?” the disgust was evident in both Harry’s face and his tone.

“No, Sirius. He broke out of prison to protect you… he never did figure out that you weren’t in the school.”

Harry nodded. “I’m afraid it’ll be quite difficult for him to take custody. I’ve been emancipated on the condition that I attend Hogwarts until I’m seventeen. I would like to talk more with him, however, but we need to get Pettigrew to the Ministry first.”

“How do you suggest we get him to the Ministry?” Lupin asked.

“I’ll take him. I needed to go there anyways—have to place a complaint about Hogwarts’ segregation system. Sorting people by personality…honestly,” he added to himself, shaking his head. “Anyways, hopefully after hearing all this Professor Snape will be willing to take Neville and Ron back up to the school. I didn’t exactly want to truss you up, Professor,” he added to Snape. “I’ll get rid of the spells in a minute,” he added at Snape’s glare, turning towards Lupin.

“The full moon is going to rise in about twenty minutes,” Harry said, checking his watch.

“My potion!” Lupin exclaimed, paling. “I/ knew/ I was forgetting something! Merlin…so many things could have gone wrong…”

Harry ignored Lupin’s exclamation in favour of some advice. “I suggest that once I’ve left you awaken Sirius and have him transform into an animagus. Those theories—they are right, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are,” Lupin replied, calming. I’ll do that.”

“Good,” Harry replied, nodding sharply. He turned his wand towards Snape. “Don’t be too upset, Professor,” he said candidly. “You’d have done the same in my place.” He undid the spells and handed Snape his wand, watching the man warily.

“You and I will be having a discussion of proper conduct in my office tomorrow evening, Flamel. Don’t be late.”

Harry nodded, ignoring the fact that Snape had chosen to ignore the fact that he was of Potter descent. That would help his damage control considerably.

After requesting that Ron not begin shouting once more, he also undid the spells on the boy. He was rather pale, whether from pain in his poorly bandaged leg or due to the revelations of the evening.

“I’d like to ask all of you not to talk about what you’ve learnt about me tonight. I know it’s tough. The world’s been looking for me for years now. But I can’t. I’d be too tempting of bait for Voldemort’s followers and they’d flock straight to Hogwarts. Let me remind you that inviting evil beings into a school where children are present is not the best idea. So please…I’ll discuss it with all of you at a later date…but right now please don’t spread it around. Not even to the Headmaster, not yet.”

No one protested, though Harry privately thought that he’d probably have to Obliviate Ron. He was a bit too hung up on fame and such to be aware when he was letting the beans spill, but with a younger sister would hold true to Harry’s threat for a few months, at least. He sincerely hoped he wouldn’t have to Obliviate any of the others. Neville was quiet and unlikely to truly make a big deal out of it. Lupin and Black had known his parents and he wouldn’t know one iota about them if they didn’t know he was their son. And Snape…well, Snape was Snape and Harry rather liked the rude professor, as much as it pained him to admit.

Snape, Neville, and Ron all left the room before he did, Neville supporting Ron as best as he was able. Harry stared at Lupin for a few minutes before leaving himself, levitating the body of Pettigrew behind him. He planned on simply pulling his hood up and Apparating to the Apparation point in front of the Department of Law Enforcement. Not that they had to know he could Apparate, however, but he was emancipated, after all.

So, instead of going out of the tunnel, Harry left through the front door of the old building. He closed it firmly behind him, knowing that it didn’t really matter with a werewolf inside anyways. He noticed with some amusement that he had been inside the most haunted building in Britain, the Shrieking Shack, and hadn’t been aware.

With a smile, Harry Apparated with a small pop to the Ministry, more or less ready for the chaos that he would be bombarded with upon stating his companion’s name.