– – – – – Rebirth Chapter 18 – – – – –

It was the day before the Malfoy's party and Harry was sitting cross-legged on his bed with his improved copy of the marauder's map on his lap, and his charmed auto quill and parchment over on his desk, jotting down notes about Dumbledore's movements. He usually kept the auto notes going in an extra expanded compartment he'd added to his trunk so that no one would see it working away constantly, but since his dorm was empty for the holidays he hadn't felt the need to keep it hidden away.

He was eating a sandwich he'd grabbed from the kitchens earlier and letting his eyes lazily roam over the map in his lap at the sparsely scattered names and moving footprints. With the school mostly empty, there were a lot fewer names to sort through and everything was considerably less cluttered.

It was probably because of this lone fact that he noticed a name on the map that he'd never really noticed before. A name that most certainly shouldn't have been there because it was the name of a man who was supposed to be dead.

Peter Pettigrew.

Harry froze with the sandwich halfway to his mouth and his jaw hanging slack as he saw the tiny footprints attached to the name moving around in the Gryffindor common room. The name scurried across the room and then came to a stop directly next to the name Ron Weasley.

A shocked gasp escaped Harry's mouth and suddenly his hand came up and violently smacked his forehead.

"Merlin's beard! I'm a bloody idiot!" he screamed out to the empty room.

A rat! A bloody effing rat! He knew that Weasley had a pet rat! He'd even seen the blasted thing several times in a few of their classes, and heard the git complaining about how his rat was always running off and disappearing whenever he was going to go to Defense so he was never able to bring him to that class! The rat was dodging Remus! Granted, whenever Harry had seen the rat, it had always from a distance, but he had seen it, and thinking back... yes... Yes, it looked just like Wormtail. Weasley's pet rat, was Peter fucking Pettigrew!

The revelation required total revision of his plans. Pettigrew wasn't dead and he could prove it! There goes one of Sirius' charges, right there! And if Peter wasn't dead... maybe he was the one who had killed those muggles! Harry had to step back and rethink his strategy completely. In fact... this really would made things easier. At least, theoretically. Of course it meant he had to actually catch the animagus first, but that really shouldn't be that hard.

But how to approach things now? Initially, he had just planned to use the political power of his name as the Boy-Who-Lived, and promise favors, interviews, and public statements in exchange for help getting Sirius' case revisited, but now he could have tangible proof that Sirius was innocent. His earlier plan would have meant showing more of his Slytherin tendencies to a few key figures and risk word of it getting back to Dumbledore. Now, however, the potential had appeared that he could accomplish his goal while still playing the role of an innocent child.

But no... he would still at least partially stick with some of his original plan. For the party, at least. Although, with Pettigrew captured, Remus' suggestion of going to Madam Bones had some actual potential. Perhaps he would bring her in on things afterall. Additional support, and all that...

He didn't have much time to plan things though, since the party was the following evening. If he was going to use Pettigrew, he needed to guarantee that he had the man, so he needed to capture him right away.

–

Harry was perched on the window sill of one of the high windows on Gryffindor Tower, peering into the common room. He was in his bat animagus form, observing the garishly red and gold room from high above, debating his plans. None of the windows in the common room were open, and from his quick flight around the tower, it didn't appear that any of the windows in any of the rooms were open either.

Harry knew where the entrance to Gryffindor Tower was – it was a portrait of some obese woman who would ask you what the password was. But that was the problem. He had no idea what the password was, so going through the front would be difficult. Still, with the windows closed and latched, going through one of them was just as difficult.

He considered the merits of flying down to the owlery, transforming, and attaching a letter to one of the twins to an owls leg and then just following the owl. It would tap at a window and someone in the common room would let it in. But what would he write in the letter?

He was growing impatient and was about to take off from the window and commence his plan when the fates suddenly decided to intervene and make his job easy for him. How rare. A barn own flew to the tower and began to tap on one of the windows that were lower, and within reach of someone standing on the floor.

Harry actually blinked down at the owl, perched on the ledge of the window with dumbfounded shock for a moment before the movement of someone in the common room standing up and heading towards the window shook him from his stupor and he quickly flew down. It was actually Ron Weasley who had gotten up and opened the window. The owl flew in and across the room to land on the back of a chair by one of the twins. Harry flew through the open window a moment later, endlessly grateful that Weasley hadn't closed the window the moment the owl was through.

Harry found a dark corner high in the common room where he could easily latch onto the wall and still observe those in the room and waited.

One of the twins exclaimed something about a Christmas card from 'Angelina', and the other came over and read over his shoulder as they both looked at the card. Ron Weasley seemed to pout, huff loudly, and flop back down on the sofa he'd been sitting on earlier with bored indignation. The rat, who he had moved onto the couch beside him when he stood up, was quickly grabbed and put back onto his lap.

Harry stayed there, clinging easily to the wall and observing the group as they talked, joked, and passed the time with mindless activities. Ron attempted to join in on whatever the twins were up to a few times, but they were clearly in the middle of scheming for some prank and weren't interested in involving him. He then tried to get them to join him for a game of wizard's chess, or exploding snap, but again – they were busy. One of them suggested that Ron work on some of the homework that was assigned over the break and Ron looked absolutely affronted by that suggestion.

Finally, it seemed that Ron had become fed up with his boredom and stood up, grumbling under his breath and said he'd be back in a few minutes – that he was going up to his room to get a book. The twins waved at him to show that they'd heard him, but didn't care, and the youngest of the Weasley's present stormed up the stairs, leaving his pet rat sleeping soundly on the couch.

The window had been left open even after the owl had left, which Harry was grateful for as he looked down at the overweight rodent and debated his options.

It's important to understand something about Harry's animagus form that separated him from most other bat breeds common to Europe. The Greater Noctule Bat of Europe is a carnivorous predator, and one of the only breeds of bat in the United Kingdom known for 'hawking' of it's prey. Meaning that the Greater Noctule is known for swooping down on it's prey and flying off with them. Prey that is usually made up of birds and rodents. The Greater Noctule is even known for catching birds while said bird was still in flight. The Greater Noctule bats are agile, powerful, and fast.

But even with all this in mind, Harry's body was still only marginally bigger than Pettigrew's rodent body. His wing span obviously made him larger over all, but he still wasn't entirely convinced he could carry that rat and not drop him, considering how fat he was. It would be even more difficult when the rat woke up and struggled. Of course, Harry would be carrying the rat in his mouth... with his rather sharp teeth. He knew he could do this without killing the rodent – although the man would be injured by it, but the injuries would help keep the bastard from struggling, and Harry could always heal him afterwards.

Harry focused some of his magics through his body and strengthening his jaw. He was fairly sure he could do this without any serious complications and he didn't want to wait any longer.

He jumped down from his perch, swooped through the air effortlessly, and snatched the slumbering rat up in his wide mouth, filled with sharp teeth. Without even the slightest deviation in his flight path, he was flying back up. He pumped his large, powerful wings and saw as the Weasley twins looked up with absolutely stunned expressions as they watched him fly right out the window with the rat in mouth.

He would have snickered if he had been able to do such a thing as a bat... and if he didn't have a mouth full of now fully awake and squirming rat-animagus.

The rat, however, stopped squirming once he realized just how high up in the air the two were. Obviously, he realized that if the bat dropped him, he would be dead upon impact with the ground and decided to wait until the bat landed before making his escape. Internally, Harry smirked.

He flew around and entered an open window that he had prepared earlier. The room on the other side was warded tightly, and there was no way in or out except for the window, which snapped shut behind Harry automatically as he flew inside.

He opened his jaws and let the rat go flying. He hit the ground hard and rolled, leaving a scattered trail of blood from the large puncture wounds caused by Harry's fangs. The rat squealed in pain and shock, but quickly began to right himself and darted around, obviously searching for something to hide under, or escape through. But the room was empty. The rat spotted the door and ran for it. Just as he was about to try and squeeze underneath it, he was thrown back after impacting an invisible barrier ward.

Harry transformed back into his human form and landed on his feet with fluid grace and instantly had his wand out and aimed it at the rat that was now scratching frantically at the barrier, keeping him from escaping beneath the door. A flash of red light later and the rat lay on the floor, unconscious.

– –

Harry came to a stop in front of the door to Snape's private quarters. He was wearing a pair of snug black pants, tucked into calf-high boots, a black silk dress shirt with high buttoned collar. Over the shirt was what, from the waist up, looked like a form fitting vest that was very trim, emerald green, and made of fine velvet. However at the waist it continued down and flared out as dress robes that hung to just below his knees.

He had found he was quite fond of some of the newer wizarding fashions that had sprung up since his previous death. He liked that modern dress robes finally looked more masculine and less like the frilly mens dresses of his youth.

He knocked on the door and waited a moment in the cold dim dungeon hallway before the door was wrenched open and he was faced with the glowering face of his potions professor. Snape's dress robes were all black – shocking! – and a bit more traditional than Harry's, but at least there were no frills – now that would have been amusing. They were form fitting and cut to hug his upper torso, but hung down and billowed from the waist, all the way down to the floor. The sleeves were wide and draped down over his hands, while the collar was high and trimmed with a very dark forest grin along the top, coming down the center of his neck and down his chest. The threading, upon close inspection, looked like tiny snakes, and gave the illusion that they were slithering along the seams.

"My, professor. Don't you look spiffy?" Harry said with a cheeky grin.

Snape's eyes flashed with momentary annoyance and Harry had to fight the urge to laugh at the man's reaction. Clearly Severus Snape didn't take compliments well.

"Just get in here," he muttered and spun around to leave the doorway open for Harry to follow.

The pair made quick work of traveling through the floo, and Harry managed to exit into the Malfoy's welcoming room without stumbling out the floo like an idiot. A quick wave of his wand and his robes were cleared of soot and ash.

"You're out side of Hogwarts, now; you shouldn't use your wand," Snape said, curtly.

"Don't worry, my wand doesn't have a trace on it," Harry said as he dismissively waved away Snape's comment.

"That may be true, but a personal trace is cast upon every first year student who comes to Hogwarts the first night there, to act as a supplement to the wand-trace in case a hand-me-down wand is used by the child.

Harry froze and turned to look at Snape with hard, cold eyes. "A personal trace?" he asked in a very quiet hiss.

Snape flinched slightly from the intensity of Harry's sudden anger, but quickly recovered.

"Yes. I imagine the wards around the Malfoy's manor have prevented your trace from alerting the Ministry of your use of magic, but I would recommend caution when casting spells outside of school anywhere else."

A terrible fury could easily be seen behind Harry's eyes. How had this happened without him noticing? The idea that a spell could have been cast upon him and he hadn't realized it was truly infuriating to him.

"Do you know what's necessary to remove it?" Harry asked in a tightly controlled, deathly quiet, voice.

Snape's eyes widened with uncertainty for a moment and Harry could see the muscles of his jaw flex as he clenched his teeth. "I... do not."

Again, another flash of anger could be seen behind Harry's fierce green eyes. The small child who looked far too frightening for his size and age pulled in a slow breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again the anger was gone and he looked calm.

"I've got time. I'll figure it out," he said with absolute confidence in his voice.

Just at that moment, the door to the welcoming room opened and Narcissa Malfoy walked in. She quickly greeted them, apologizing for them having to wait – all of the elves were busy making sure everything was ready for the party, and she had been directing them all because they were far too incompetent to get it right without her.

Harry grinned, slightly amused at how the proper elegant woman was clearly a bit flustered by all of the preparations.

Draco showed up a moment later and happily greeted them. He called Snape 'Uncle Sev' and Harry barely refrained from laughing. The dower potions master sent him a withering glare and Harry just looked up at him with an amused glint to his eyes and a very small smile.

Harry and Snape had arrived to the party quite early so they were the first guests there. Draco dragged Harry off to his room to show him some things, while Snape went off to speak with Lucius. He needed to speak with the man. Even now that a few weeks had passed since his shocking discussion with Harry Potter, he was still reeling from what he'd learned.

Severus found Lucius and after a quick whispered request the blond aristocratic man lead him to his private office. Lucius sat down in his own high backed leather chair behind his desk and motioned for Severus to take the chair opposite.

"You wished to speak with me, Severus?" Lucius asked.

"Yes. Potter told me... he said that you were the only other person that he had confided in about his... true history."

Lucius quirked a single brow. "Told you, did he? What exactly did he tell you?" Lucius asked cautiously, knowing that it was not beyond Severus to try and squeeze information out of him by leading him to believe he already knew it.

"This room is secure?" Severus asked.

"Of course."

Severus nodded his head and fixed Lucius with his piercing black eyes. "Herakles Jude. Reborn."

The corner of Lucius' lips turned up into something resembling a smile. "Ah, yes, so he did tell you. I must admit, I am curious as to how that actually come to pass?"

"I'm not even honestly sure, myself. Dumbledore wanted me to keep an eye on Potter while he's here at the party, so I had to hold him after class to discuss our travel arrangements. During that time, he offered to play... a game," Severus sneered the last word and rolled his eyes. "Said that if I would truthfully answer a question for him, he would answer one for me."

"You must have asked a very good question. What did he ask you?"

Severus diverted his eyes for a moment with the slightest indication of discomfort. "I would rather not discuss it."

"Well, whatever he asked you, your answer must have pleased him if he decided he could trust you with the truth of his identity."

"I suppose," Severus said with a grimace. "How long have you known?"

"Since August, so not very long."

"Do you really believe him? Everything he claims?"

"He has demonstrated his powers and his knowledge to me and I can say that, at the very least, he most unquestionably is a necromancer of significant power. He also knows things about the Dark Lord that next to no one knows. Did you ever hear about what happened to Judgson, Bole, Simmons or Fairfax last year and over the summer?"

"The interrogations?" Severus asked, caught a bit off guard. He had heard, and he'd been rather surprised that anyone had successfully managed to catch all of those wizards off their guard to abduct and question them – and he had been even more surprised to hear that several of them had been caught more than once. It wasn't terribly surprising with Simmons or Fairfax, and even Bole for the first abduction, but Judgson was a very skilled wizard. He'd been in the Dark Lord's inner circle for a reason...

"Yes. Well, that was Potter." Lucius said with a smirk.

"Potter?" Severus blanched in disbelief. "How is it that he wasn't recognized?"

"Ask him to show you some time. It's quite a sight to see," Lucius replied with obvious amusement in his eyes.

Severus paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Jugson said that his assailant told him to tell the Dark Lord that 'Valerius was looking for him', correct?"

"Yes, apparently Valerius is his true family name, not Jude. However very few people knew that. The Dark Lord being one of those few."

Severus gaped slightly. "Herakles was from the Valerius line? I suppose that makes sense... they were known for producing quite a few necromancer's. But I thought that line had gone extinct centuries ago."

"Yes, I believe that many had assumed that. Although, I suppose one could say that it has gone extinct since he no longer carries Valerius blood since his rebirth in the body of a Potter."

"True," Severus said with a grimace. "Are you aware that he's attempting to get Sirius Black out of Azkaban?" Severus asked after a moment's pause.

"He mentioned that, yes. He intends to speak with the Minister tonight."

"The Minister?" Severus blanched, surprised that Potter intended to go directly to the top. "But that man is an incompetent fool!"

"Yes, but that only makes him easier to control and predict," Lucius replied with a feral grin. "His motivations are easy to manipulate. Power and influence. If Potter attempted to go behind the Minister's back with this he would only get himself on the man's bad side and likely have to fight against him at some point. The Minister would try to put a stop to it all in an attempt to save face and avoid getting blamed for something he had no control over. This way, Harry can get the Minister's full support and avoid conflict. The Minister can look like the one man who stood by the poor orphan Potter's side and helped him get justice," Lucius chuckled darkly.

– –

The party was being held in a large formal ball room. It had a large open section dedicated as a dance floor and a small string quartet playing classical-sounding music. The other portion of the ballroom was filled with a spattering of small-ish round tables with fine table clothes and place settings adorning the top. At the far end opposite the dance floor was a larger rectangular table that had Lucius at the head, his wife Narcissa and then Draco beside them. After Draco was Harry and then Snape. On Lucius' other side was the Minister for Magic and his wife, followed by several more powerful political figures and their spouses.

Harry acted politely bored, as a child his age would be expected to when so much 'uninteresting' political talk was going on. Draco attempted several times to draw him into discussion, but Harry would shush him – something that clearly irritated Draco. He was not used to being 'shushed'. Despite appearances, Harry was actually paying close attention to the discussions and waiting patiently until the open mingling portion of the party would commence so he could get the Minister alone.

Harry was engaged in conversation by a few different people and he responded politely, charming them with relative ease. Lucius also imparted the story to those at the table about Harry Potter's familial relationship with his wife Narcissa. Several there expressed their surprise, stating that they'd never realized that the Potter's had connected with the Blacks like that, while another older gentleman chuckled and recounted his memory of the scandal it had produced among the old families when young Dorea ran off with Charlus Potter. Her family had, apparently, not entirely approved of it. The fact that Charlus was from a wealthy old pure-blood family was the only reason that she hadn't been disowned for it. She had apparently run off with Charlus when her father had attempted to force her into an arranged marriage with an older political ally of her father's.

Harry was honestly interested in this story since it was something he had always been eager for details about.

After the meal had officially been concluded Lucius stood while tapping his gold knife on his crystal goblet to get everyone's attention. He gave a small speech that was fit for a smooth, cunning, politician of Lucius' caliber, and then welcomed everyone to dance and mingle.

Draco dragged Harry off to the side of the ballroom where their 'friends' had gathered, but he kept his eyes keenly trained on the Minister, watching for the best opportunity to approach the man. It took nearly twenty minutes before he saw his chance and excused himself from Draco and the other children.

Harry walked casually across the portion of the dance floor that people were mostly using for mingling and 'casual' discussion about politics and current events and came upon the Minister just as another man was leaving.

"Excuse me, Minister Fudge?" Harry asked with innocent, child-like voice. The Minister turned around and upon catching sight of Harry his eyes went wide. They also instantly traveled up to Harry's forehead that was clearly exposed since his long hair was tied, neatly back, in a low ponytail.

"Ah! Mr. Potter!" Fudge exclaimed as his expression went bright and happy, although Harry could also see the slightest sign of greed in the man's eyes. "I was hoping that I might get to speak with you at this evenings party."

"Really?" Harry replied with innocent, surprise, tinged with the slightest bit of awe, as if he were truly shocked that such an important figure could possibly with to speak with him.

"Oh, yes. Quite so. You are quite a name, you know. Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. But surely you're used to such things by now."

Harry ducked his head, appearing bashful and shrugged as he toed the floor. "Not really. It's hard to get used to something like that. I've really only been aware of it since the end of July."

"What's this, now?" Fudge asked, sputtering slightly.

Harry shrugged and hesitantly met the Minister's eyes. "I was raised by muggles, you see. They don't like magic much. For that matter, they don't like me much. They never told me about the wizarding world, or any of it. They even told me my parents were drunks and they died in a car crash. While I actually knew they were lying about that, I still really didn't know anything about all this Boy-Who-Lived stuff until I got my Hogwarts letter and visited Diagon Alley for the first time, just this last summer. I suppose that's the biggest reason I started looking into some things, and the reason that I wanted to speak with you. Could I have a few minutes of your time?"

"Oh, of course, Harry. Do you mind if I call you Harry?"

"No, of course not. That's fine with me, Minister."

"Good, good. Shall we find some place a bit more private?"

"That would be great, Minister." Harry said, beaming up with bright, innocent eyes.

Harry led the Minister to the long wall of the ballroom that had tall glass doors and floor-to-ceiling glass windows lining it. Beyond the doors was a wide balcony and the pair made their way out onto it. A look from the Minister was all that was needed to evict the few people that were gathered out there.

"Perhaps you could throw up a privacy ward?" Harry asked, looking hesitant.

Fudge's eyebrows rose into his forehead a bit but he nodded, pulled out his wand and with an obviously well-practiced set of wand movements, threw up a fairly high powered privacy ward. Harry had no doubt that the politician's greatest strength lie in his privacy wards and listening device detection spells. One simply couldn't become a high ranking politician without them.

"Thank you very much for coming out here to speak with me, Minister. I truly do appreciate your willingness to hear me out because I'm about to make a very large request of you. However, I truly do feel that if we proceed cautiously, this can work out for the best for both of our interests," Harry said, suddenly dropping the innocent child act, but maintaining the proper politeness.

Fudge clearly sensed the shift because he gave Harry a shrewd look but nodded for him to continue.

"Are you aware, Minister, that Albus Dumbledore is my magical guardian?" Harry began.

Fudge nodded his head slowly. "Yes, I am aware of that."

"As my guardian representative in the magical world, he has a powerful say over my life, and I must admit that I don't particularly appreciate the power he holds over me. Did you know that I've never once in my life given a single interview to any journalists or reporters?" Fudge looked a bit surprised, but Harry continued without waiting for a response. "The reason for that is because I've never received a single request for an interview from anyone. I've never received a single bit of fan mail. Not even a single solicitation. When I re-entered the magical world and learned of the scale of my fame, this realization made me wonder – why? I discovered that Dumbledore – for my own safety, of course – has a powerful charm in place so that all mail address to me is rerouted to him. He then sorts it, decides which things are appropriate for me to see and which are not, and sends on only that which he approves of, or thinks I would notice were missing; thus realizing what he's doing. Of course, as my guardian, he has every right to do this, so I can't exactly make a big fuss about it.

"This is just one very small thing, among many, that he's done to me that I don't particularly appreciate, but I mention it because I want you to know that if you and I can come to terms on what I wish to discuss with you that I will be more than eager to give my first public interview with any reporter you deem most fit, stating my endless gratitude for your assistance, and my whole hearty support of you and your office. I also have access to a great deal of the Potter family wealth and would be eager to make any campaign donations for your next bid at reelection."

Fudge's eyes widened and that hungry gleam made itself known again for a moment before the shrewd calculating glint took over. "I'm listening."

Harry grinned.

"What would you say, if I told you that I have undeniable proof that the man currently incarcerated for my parents betrayal, and several murders, was innocent, and that he was locked away without even being questioned, let alone receiving a trial?"

Fudge's eyes went wide and his face paled. "What sort of proof?"

"I've caught the man who actually did it. The man who actually betrayed my parents to the Dark Lord. The man who was actually a Death Eater, and who was responsible for the deaths of nearly a dozen muggles on a London street. Sirius Black was never my parents secret keeper. He was a decoy. Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper, and the only one who knew was Sirius Black. The reason he went after Pettigrew was because he wanted revenge. He knew that Pettigrew had betrayed my parents to the Dark Lord. But Pettigrew managed to turn the whole scene around, placing the blame on Sirius and then blowing up the street to make it look like he'd been killed and his body destroyed. He cut off his own finger to add validity to the whole charade.

"What no one realizes is that Pettigrew was an unregistered animagus. His form was that of a rat. He transformed immediately after causing the explosion and escaped unharmed. At that time, Barty Crouch was getting himself lined up to make a bid of his to own to run for Minister of Magic – wasn't he? He was the one who apprehended Sirius, and he's the one who had him sent straight to Azkaban without a trial. He wanted the fame and notoriety that would come with having captured the Dark wizard responsible for betraying the Potters, so he didn't want to risk anything going wrong with the capture.

"You weren't even Minister yet, back then. Because of his capture of Black, Crouch probably would be here, right now, if it weren't for the scandal that happened with his son later that year. None of what happened back then can be blamed on you, Minister, so there is no need to try and bury the fact that an innocent man has been rotting in Azkaban for a decade without ever having received a trial. Crouch made sure to bury his dirty work, quite well, I'm sure.

"What you'd be doing now is righting a terrible wrong. Bring about justice, and helping the boy who lived free his godfather. What's even better, I've caught Pettigrew. Three drops of veritaserum and he'll spill the whole story. He betrayed the Potters. He killed those muggles. It's so perfectly clean, it couldn't possibly be any easier. This is a total win for both of us. You get the public praise of helping me, serving justice, and you get to put another blemish on Crouch's already sullied record, and I get my godfather back and out from under Dumbledore's legal thumb. I may also ask that you help make sure that Sirius is able to successfully reclaim his rightful guardianship over me, but that's not much to ask for."

Fudge looked utterly stunned and clearly overwhelmed by everything Harry had said, but he recovered admirably fast. He suddenly looked thoughtful and frowned. "Black has been in Azkaban for a decade... I have to visit that awful place every year, Mr. Potter. I doubt anyone could be there for that long and still be sane. The public outcry that an innocent man could be left there and have his mind utterly destroyed by the negligent actions of the Ministry –"

"But that's not your fault. That was Crouch's doing. You're righting his wrongs. And if we're lucky, Sirius will still have some of his sanity left."

"And if he doesn't? He can't become your guardian if he's completely lost his mind," Fudge pointed out, looking at Harry shrewdly.

Harry nodded his head. "I realize this. Actually, my fall-back plan is to see if the Malfoy's can attempt to claim custody of me. I know Dumbledore will fight tooth and nail to prevent it, so I only want to go down that road if it's absolutely necessary. Narcissa is my cousin, and they would make far more suitable guardians for me than magic-hating muggles."

Fudge puffed up his chest a bit. "Well, I would say so! Magic-hating muggles you say? How the devil did you end up there?"

Harry couldn't hold back the sneer that curled his lips. "Dumbledore. I'm fairly positive that my parents had actually specified in their wills that I was to never end up with my muggle aunt because my mum knew how much she would hate me, but Dumbledore needed me to be with a blood relative for the protective magics he cast to take hold. Because of this, he ignored my parents wills and put me there anyway. And to hide his wrong-doing, he had their wills sealed, claiming that if the public could get to them, they could potentially find me and I would be in danger. Perfect for him, of course."

Fudge's eyes narrowed and Harry could see the Minister's dislike for Dumbledore, plainly written across his face. Harry knew from his talks with Lucius just how much Fudge both hated and feared Albus Dumbledore. Despite that, Fudge also respected the power Dumbledore had and was almost constantly sucking up to the man, or asking his advice in order to better keep tabs on him. Lucius said that Fudge was convinced that Dumbledore would eventually go after the position of Minister, and of course Fudge knew he would never stand a chance against the Great Albus Dumbledore in a political race.

Finally, Fudge turned his now curious gaze back on Harry. "You say you've captured Pettigrew? How is that possible?"

"Like I told you, he's a rat animagus. He's been masquerading as the pet of a wizarding child for years and I spotted him. Remus Lupin is the Defense professor at Hogwarts right now. He, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and my father were best friends when they were younger, and Professor Lupin has been telling me all about my father and their school days since the start of term. I saw Pettigrew in his rat form with one of my classmates on several occasions and I finally recognized him from the professor's description.

"I was able to capture him, put him under a heavy sleeping spell, and inside a cage with a stasis charm. I've identified that he is an animagus and he is Peter Pettigrew."

"And you're really sure about all the rest of it? That Sirius Black wasn't the secret keeper and that he really wasn't a Death Eater?"

"I am sure, but you can certainly have everything done quietly up until everything is absolutely proven for sure. Keep it all hidden away from the press until the final verdict is sealed. That way there's no chance that Crouch or anyone else could try to interfere to prevent word from getting out, about what really happened here." Of course, in reality, Harry was far more concerned with Dumbledore catching wind of the proceedings, and didn't honestly give a shit if Crouch heard. His career was already in the toilet.

Fudge's face revealed that his mind was fast at work, probably playing through all the different plans and potential political repercussions that would come from all of this. Finally he nodded, seemingly to himself and returned his focus to Harry. "Alright, Harry. If you can bring me Peter Pettigrew and a representative from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement can prove through use of Veritaserum that he is who you claim and that it was he that was responsible for the crimes Sirius Black has been accused of, I will have Black secretly retrieved from Azkaban and he will receive a trial."

Harry grinned widely. "Brilliant. When is best for me to get Pettigrew to you? I can have my house elf deliver him whenever is best for you."

"I will need to make some arrangements and contact some people who owe me some favors to prepare for all of this..." Fudge said hesitantly. "With Yule coming up so soon..."

"But that's probably the best time, in all honesty," Harry said. "A lot of people will be taking their vacation time. Fewer people will be paying attention to little things like this because they'll be too preoccupied with the holiday season. It might be easier to slip things under people's noses without notice if you do it soon."

Fudge nodded his head slowly as he debated Harry's words. "Yes... you're probably right."

"You can always contact me when you're ready for Pettigrew, if you'd prefer that. Obviously, you cannot sent me a letter by owl, though, since it'll be intercepted by Dumbledore. You can get in contact with me by contacting Lucius. I've instructed my house elf to respond of Mr. Malfoy calls for him with any letters for me, and the elf can get those letters directly to me."

Fudge's face brighten a bit. "Ah, yes. That sounds like a good plan, right there. I'll try to get things set up and in motion right away and contact Lucius to inform you when I'm ready."

Harry grinned. "Great. Sounds like a plan."

– –

Two days passed before Dobby appeared in front of Harry in the Ravenclaw common room with a letter from the Minister informing him that he was ready for Pettigrew to be delivered later that afternoon. Harry dug the small cage out of of one of the extra compartments in his his trunk and began removing the numerous layers of security charms that he'd put on it that were keyed directly to him. He also removed the stasis charm since it was considerably higher level than any eleven-year-old should be able to cast. He knew that with it off, the rat would wake from the sleeping charm within the hour, but by then it would be in the custody of Aurors, so it wouldn't matter.

He handed the cage to Dobby and reiterated instructions that he'd already given the elf three times, just to make sure the little thing was perfectly clear on what to do. Dobby insisted with great enthusiasm that he would not fail his master. He took the cage in his spindly little arms and popped away.

The little house returned five minutes later to inform Harry that he had successfully delivered it to the Minister of Magic's office and that an wizard named Dawlish had been there, and they had quickly taken the cage and gone into an interrogation where another wizard in Auror robes was waiting, at which point, Dobby had been told he had to leave.

Harry nodded his head, letting out a breath to try and calm himself. He hated that everything was so outside of his control and that he was having to rely on the assistance of others to get what he wanted accomplished. But he knew that this was the only real option he had at the moment and he would just have to sit back and wait.

– –

Christmas morning dawned and Harry found himself waking annoyingly early as one of the school's house elves stacked his received presents in a neat pile at the foot of his bed. He got up grumpily and shooed the little creature away as he went over to examine the pile.

There was quite a bit more than he would have expected. He'd gotten gifts from a great number of his classmates, and he realized it was probably because he'd been helping most of them in classes an established a firm 'friendly acquaintance' relationship with almost everyone in his year that he shared a class with. He made quick work of opening all the little boxes from his classmates and wasn't the least bit surprised to find that most of them were sweets and chocolates. Maybe he could barter all of the Chocolate Frog cards with Terry Boot since the kid was so damned obsessed with them.

He'd gotten books from most of his Ravenclaw-Slytherin study-group 'friends', since they actually spent enough time with him to have some vague idea of what he might want. Draco, however, had given him a broom. It was shrunk down and placed inside a stylish case, and it was a Nimbus 2000. Harry had laughed with amused delight at the broom and debated the merits of sneaking out to take it for a ride at some point later that day.

From Remus he got a photo album with some pictures from the marauder's school days. Harry had given Remus a specially charmed box that had twelve individual compartments, each with their own powerful stasis charm. Inside each compartment was a single dose of the Wolfsbane potion that Harry had brewed himself. With it was a note suggesting that Remus hold onto it until the summer since Snape was providing him with Wolfsbane while Remus was teaching at Hogwarts. He still had no idea how the werewolf would take the gift, but it had been the most practical gift he could think of that he knew Remus couldn't refuse it. He had considered just giving the man money because he clearly needed it... but he also knew that Remus would never accept 'charity'.

Harry picked up a small package with a tag attached noting that it was a gift from Hagrid. He pulled it open and sat there, frowning in confusion at the fit for several long moments as he tried to work out the meaning of it.

It was a small hand-carved flute. Very much like the one that Hagrid used to sooth Fluffy to sleep.

Was it just a coincidence? Was it just that Hagrid was using his flute regularly, so he thought of making one for Harry just for the heck of it? Or had Harry been given a flute specifically so that he could use it to get past Fluffy? Harry doubted very much that Hagrid wanted Harry to go anywhere near Fluffy, and yet he also couldn't put it past Dumbledore to plant the suggestion into Hagrid's mind.

But still... why? Why why why? He just couldn't understand what the hell Dumbledore was doing, giving Harry the tools needed to get to the Stone. It was totally illogical and very disturbing.

And then Harry had come across a box that had no tag on it at all. He opened it up and out came a silky pool of translucent shiny fabric and a note. Harry's eyes went wide and he gasped as he ran his hand under the material, watching id disappear beneath it and instantly knew what it was. It was a cloak of invisibility! But it wasn't like any invisibility cloak he'd ever seen before! His Black Sight was going crazy as he let his eyes trail over the cloak. He stood up and held it in his hands, examining it and trying to determine exactly what it was he was looking at.

A normal invisibility cloak was woven from the hair from a Demiguise. Of course, being hair it would eventually degrade and loose its invisibility in patches. This was not made of Demiguise. He was sure of that. It was something else, entirely...

Harry sucked in a sharp breath and he dropped it in shock as he realized what it was. He knelt down slowly, picking it back up and running his hand over it again.

"Lethifold skin," he whispered in awe.

The Lethifold (also known as a Living Shroud) was a carnivorous and highly dangerous magical creature that's appearance resembled that of a black cloak roughly half an inch thick – although it would appear thicker if it had recently eaten someone. In addition to being black, it could also appear invisible. The only normal spell that could actually hold off a Lethifold was the Patronus charm. It was a very very dark creature. Wizards – even Dark wizards – were almost helpless against them. They could push them back with a Patronus and then run, but they couldn't kill them.

The only wizards who had ever managed to control, or effectively banish Lethifolds were very powerful Necromancers who could wield the powers necessary to manipulate the beasts.

The idea of someone actually successfully skinning one was just stunning!

Harry then noticed the note that had fallen to the floor and bent down to pick it up. He unfolded it and instantly recognized the long slanted writing as Dumbledore's.

'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It's time it was returned to you. Use it well.'

The note was unsigned, so he wouldn't have had any way of knowing who the 'gift' had come from if it weren't for the fact that he recognized the handwriting.

Once again he had to take pause and wonder why the hell Dumbledore was giving him these things. He hated that he couldn't understand Dumbledore's motives for doing these things. He knew that Dumbledore had some scheme in mind – some plan – and he was doing these things to try and guide Harry to following that plan without even realizing that he'd been guided. That was how Dumbledore worked.

He tried to manipulate people from the shadows to do exactly what he wanted without them ever realizing that they were being manipulated. Harry really really hated the idea that he could somehow end up playing right into Dumbledore's plans by simply failing to figure out what the man was doing.

Despite these significant hesitations, he couldn't help but look back down at the cloak with awe, and a thrill. It was his now. An artifact that had belonged to James Potter, and was most likely crafted by a wizard with powerful necromantic powers.

His mind wandered back to the last mysterious artifact he had found that was most likely crafted by a powerful necromancer. The Peverell ring that Tom had turned into one of his horcruxes. Harry had eventually become convinced that the stone set into the ring was actually a crystallized bit of Dementor heart, although he'd never determined what the ring was intended to do, only that it was very powerful.

He couldn't help but wonder if the same necromancer could have crafted both objects. Both of them were made from bits of extremely dark creatures that were normally considered impossible to restrain, let alone kill, and then use their bits to create powerful magical artifacts from them.

Harry paused suddenly as he remembered the last time he'd encountered anything to do with the 'Peverell' family. The headstone in the cemetery of Godric's Hollow, just a bit away from the spot where all of the Potters had been buried. The Gaunts had had an ancestral connection to the Peverell family. What if the Potters had as well?

It seemed like a leap, but his mind couldn't help but connect the dots and wonder.

– –

For the sake of maintaining peaceful associations and assuring that he would continue to avoid being on the receiving end of any of their pranks, Harry had given the Weasley twins a pretty sizable collection of products from Zonko's Joke Shop. When he entered the Great Hall that evening for the 'Christmas Dinner', he was rushed by the pair with gleeful gratitude. Their elder brother, Percy Weasley, who was one of the Gryffindor Prefects was frowning in disapproval, while their younger brother Ron was scowling at Harry the same as he always did. The only difference was that he now also appeared to be glaring at his twin brothers in annoyance and seemed to be pouting with jealousy.

Harry managed to brush the Weasley twins's thanks off and made his way up to the head table to speak with Remus. The man in question almost instantly set to insisting that Harry shouldn't have gotten him what he did because it no doubt cost him a small fortune. In reality it actually hadn't cost much at all, since Harry had done almost all of it himself, but no matter how much of a prodigy Harry was, he still shouldn't have been able to brew Wolfsbane with only one term of potions instruction, nor should he know how to, or be able to cast such advanced stasis charms, so Harry allowed the man to go on believing that Harry had purchased the potions for him, rather than the truth. It wasn't like he couldn't afford to have purchased it, he had just wanted to make it himself. Again Harry shoved off Remus' words and instead thanked him for the photo album.

Harry turned and found Severus walking through the Great Hall towards the Head Table and hesitating slightly before grimacing and walking stiffly over to Harry. Remus looked confused, but Harry just smiled up at the glowering man.

"Thank you," Snape said in a forced, curt tone that only seemed to amuse Harry further.

"For what, sir?" Harry asked in an innocent voice, that only made the man's scowl deepen.

"For the gift," Snape said through clenched teeth.

Remus' eyes widened considerably and he looked down at Harry with surprise. Clearly, Remus had not expected Harry to give Snape a gift for Christmas.

"Oh, well I'm glad you like it, professor," Harry then responded, smiling brightly.

"Might I inquire as to where you got it?"

Harry's eyes darted around quickly before coming back to meet Snape's. "Ask me again some other time, and I might tell you."

Snape gave a very small nod, indicating that he understood it wasn't something to be said around others and walked away from Potter and around the table to take his normal seat.

McGonagall looked at Snape as he sat down with a rather stunned look on her face. Harry heard her lean in ask quietly ask the man what Harry had given him. Snape replied simply by stating that Harry had managed to find some rather rare potion ingredients for him.

Dumbledore looked almost as surprised as McGonagall and Remus by the idea that a student who wasn't in Slytherin house – let alone a Potter – having given Severus Snape a Christmas present, but Dumbledore also seemed rather pleased and his eyes quickly began to twinkle.

Harry had the urge to walk up and ask the old man if the cloak that he had 'gifted' to Harry was actually the family heirloom that had been stolen from his trust vault when he was two years old, just so that he could crush that damned twinkle, but managed to squash the urge and instead turned back to Remus who was asking him what he'd given Snape.

A moment later Harry turned with the intention of heading over and sitting down in his own seat. As he was turning, he met Dumbledore's eyes and flinched as he felt a compulsion spell hit him. It was a miracle that he didn't instantly scowl in anger, but instead managed to maintain a passive expression as he continued to turn away and made his way to his seat.

As he sat down, he constructed walls around the compulsion to hold it together until a time where he could go into his empty mindscape and examine what the barmy old coot was trying to trick him into doing now.

– –

Harry had to wait until the small feast was over before he could race up to Ravenclaw tower and examine the spell. It turned out to be fairly simple compulsion and actually had no long lasting effects to implant or emotions to attempt to alter. It was merely a spell urging Harry to use his new cloak to explore the school after curfew, and another more subtle layer over top that would try to lure him towards a specific room on the fourth floor.

As much as Harry utterly despised the idea of knowingly doing anything that played into Dumbledore's plans, he also knew that he would have to go visit that room and find out what it was that Dumbledore wanted him to find there. And so, with great trepidation, Harry slipped the new invisibility cloak over his shoulders and pulled the hood over his head, and left his dorm just after curfew.

By the time he made it to the fourth floor, he knew that Dumbledore was following him. The man was using a very advanced disillusionment spell himself, so if it weren't for Harry's Sight, he probably wouldn't have realized the man was there. The fact that Dumbledore was having no trouble tracking Harry at all, made him take a moment to examine his cloak for any hidden charms outside of it's own latent magic. He quickly identified a very subtle tracking charm and sneered. He would be removing that as soon as he got back to his dorm room.

He wandered around a bit, making it look as if he had gotten lost and that he accidentally came across the intended room, since that was what the compulsion had wanted him to do. He slipped inside and looked around.

It took less than a second to know exactly what it was he was supposed to find there.

It was an old unused classroom with a small heap of junk – broken desks, chairs, and assorted furniture – stacked against one wall. In the center of the room, however, was a large, ornate, magical mirror.

Harry walked up to it slowly, scanning the area cautiously with his Sight, checking for any spells of possible malicious intent and finding nothing. He came to a stop, a good ten feet from the mirror and took a moment to examine it.

Along the top of the mirror were words.

It said 'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi'

Harry frowned as he wracked his brain, trying to figure out what language it was when he suddenly cursed his own stupidity.

Erised. This was the Mirror of Erised! He'd heard about it... well, a long damn time ago, but he had heard of it. What he knew of it also helped him to figure out how to read the message. It wasn't another language, it was a puzzel. Erised was 'Desire', spelled backwards. It was a mirror that showed you what you wanted. Realizing that Erised was simply spelled backwards, it was simple to see that the rest of it was as well.

"I show not your face, but your hearts desire," Harry spoke quietly to himself, knowing that Dumbledore had slipped in the room behind him and was now standing against the wall watching him.

Harry lowered the hood of his cloak, which resulted in his body remaining invisible, but now leaving a disembodied floating head visible. He pulled out his wand and cast a few very entry-level detection charms, making a point to speak the incantations aloud. While he did that, he also threw in a silent spell to sooth his own cautious curiosity. From what he understood of this mirror, you could only see what you desired when you looked into it, but he wanted to make sure that Dumbledore hadn't found some way to charm it so that he could also see what Harry saw.

When he was convinced it was acceptably safe, he took several steps closer and came to stand in front of the mirror. A tiny breath escaped him and he felt his chest tighten as he looked into the mirror and saw himself – aged several years so that he was probably somewhere around 20 – standing there directly beside Tom with his handsome, human face restored. Tom wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders from behind, leaning down slightly and resting his chin on Harry's shoulder as he turned his head and gently kissed Harry's neck.

Harry sighed and tilted his head reflexively, exposing his neck more to the reflection Tom that wasn't really there. Harry closed his eyes and if he imagined hard enough, he could almost feel Tom's strong arms wrapped around him, and his smooth, velvety lips, caressing the column of his neck.

A lone tear escaped his closed eyes and he sighed heavily as he opened them again and looked at the deceptive reflection.

"You're not real," Harry whispered coldly at the mirror before sighing heavily and pulling the hood up back over his head. He'd seen enough, and as far as Dumbledore was concerned, his compulsion spell had apparently worked and Harry had seen what he'd wanted him to see. Harry turned and left the room, intent on never coming back.

The vision he saw in the mirror would only become reality if he made it happen. Standing in front of a lying, deceitful mirror, would not make anything happen.

– –