[33] Hunting in the Dark

Snape led them out of the Headmaster's office, his face like he'd been stepped on by a werewolf.

Hall had no idea what had crawled up his robes.

At the Great Hall entrance, Snape turned to leave. Hall grabbed his hem.

Snape nearly stumbled. "You'd better have something to say."

Hall let go, surprised by his own strength. He pulled a storage bag from his pocket.

"A Christmas present, Professor. Please accept it."

Snape's expression shifted. He was actually shy.

He took it awkwardly. "Thank you. But Mr. William, even if you try to please your professor, you'll still take your Potions exam yourself."

He turned and left. His pace was much faster than usual.

Harry and Ron uncovered their mouths.

"Did Snape just get shy?!"

"What did you give him?"

"Helena's snakeskin."

"What!"

"You're revealing Helena's existence!"

"It's just a snake slough. It means snakes lived there. And it's a valuable potion ingredient — has regenerative properties, makes healing potions more effective."

It was also useful for the Squib potion's secondary development.

They sat down to dinner. The Weasley twins hurried over a few minutes later.

"Scabbers is gone," George said quietly.

Hall frowned. Fred explained what happened.

"Stop," Hall interrupted. "What did you just say?"

"You-Know-Who is at the school?" Fred repeated cautiously.

Hall jumped up. Pettigrew had gone to find his master.

"There are no more Scabbers. Find a different test subject."

He'd planned to hand Scabbers to Dumbledore in exchange for Sirius Black — the gift for Harry. Now he'd teach the rat a lesson first, then make the trade.

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He left the twins staring at each other.

Before joining the search, Hall had one more thing to test.

Night fell. Hall opened the Marauder's Map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The map was dense with names. Finding one rat among them was nearly impossible. No wonder George and Fred had spent three years without noticing anything amiss.

He wondered when he could upgrade the map. Add a search function. Filtering. Colour-coded houses. Group professors together. Maybe even photos and basic information.

Like a backend system.

He was getting carried away. Hall rubbed his eyes and kept searching.

Helena climbed onto his shoulder, curious.

"I'm looking for a Peter Pettigrew. Can you help?" He spelled the name in the air with his wand.

Helena hissed excitedly and peered at the map, searching frantically.

Hall rubbed his forehead and joined in.

They went name by name.

"Hiss hiss hiss."

"Peter Savage."

"Hiss hiss hiss."

"Peter Hodgson."

"Hiss hiss hiss."

"Peter Stevanovich."

Nearly ten Peters. Helena lost patience, her forked tongue flicking.

Then she arched her back, hissing sharply.

Hall sighed. "Let me guess. Peter Pettigrew?"

That night, under the cover of darkness, Hall unfolded the Marauder's Map and whispered the password.

Hall sighed and looked at the name Helena's tail was pointing to.

Peter Pettigrew.

He zoomed in. Pettigrew was moving fast — the map showed him in the pipes.

How do you catch someone in the pipes?

"Hiss~"

Hall looked down at Helena. Who at Hogwarts knew every secret passage and hidden chamber better than a thousand-year-old basilisk who'd spent centuries so bored she played with her own tail?

"Helena. Want to play a game?"

He picked her up. She nodded eagerly, eyes pleading.

"Snake and mouse?"

He drew Scabbers' image in the air with his wand. Her eyes shifted — the excitement of spotting prey.

She vanished.

Hall watched the Marauder's Map. Helena's name shot across it at astonishing speed, converging on Pettigrew. The two dots merged, then raced back toward Slytherin.

Hall tossed the map in a drawer and went to the common room to prepare. Chair, rope... a pair of shackles, apparently left behind by some enterprising older student. He put those aside.

Helena appeared, carrying a nearly dead Scabbers in her mouth.

"Long time no see, Scabbers."

Hall bound the rat tightly and shoved a sock into its mouth. "House-elf's rag. Fits you."

Helena slithered up his body and perched on his head, flicking her tongue at Scabbers.

Hall held his wand to the rat's legs and cast a precisely controlled Bone-Breaking Curse. A good wand made precise magic possible. He understood now why even Dumbledore preferred a wand — it let you thread magic like a needle. Wandless magic could amplify but couldn't dim.

Cracks came from Scabbers' legs. He reached out and felt them. Nothing but splinters.

The rat screamed through the gag.

Helena, thoroughly entertained, drooled from her perch.

Hall handed her off to a house-elf for feeding.

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