Three twelve-year-olds are gathered in a bathroom, copying a diagram from a book onto the floor in chalk.
"Do you know what all this writing means?" asks the green-eyed boy.
"No," says the bushy-haired girl, "and that worries me too, but we need to find out who the Heir of Slytherin is and this ritual is the best we've got."
Eventually, one or another of them draws the last bit of the outer circle.
Cam feels incredibly superfluous but he can, uh, stand slightly between the children and both the murderer and the werewolf, how about that.
"And that would have been before wolfsbane potion . . . you have a source now?"
She cannot lose a second Defense professor in a week. She cannot. She isn't just running out of qualified candidates, she's running out of people. "You, me, and Albus will be discussing this later."
"Now. Mister Pettigrew. Are you willing to repeat your story under veritaserum?"
"But, veritaserum isn't allowed in court."
"This is not a court. I intend to know whether a murderer has been living in my tower, and I intend to know today."
"Though now that I think about it, there may be an easier way . . . Mister Swan, could you determine who was at the Potter residence in Godrics's Hollow at sunset on October 31st, 1981? The nature of the fidelius charm is such that it would have been easiest for the secret-keeper to be there in person."
Idyllic little house! Tall creepy snake-faced dude stalking up to it! Terrified-looking Pettigrew following him!
Pettigrew is shaking. "Y-y-you don't believe him, right? How could he know, he wasn't there, I, I mean presumably he wasn't . . . '
"Yeah, wasn't there, haven't seen the house before, pulling this entire scene from objective reality."
McGonagall is holding her wand casually at her side in a way that leaves it obviously pointed at Pettigrew.
Lupin has no such interest in subtlety. "It's over, Peter. You can't run anymore."
Pettigrew seems to agree; he breaks down sobbing. "You don't understand--I was so scared--I don't want to go to Azkaban!"
"It's the British wizarding prison," McGonagall answers, as ropes fly out of her wand to toe Pettigrew up. "Guarded by dementors." Her explanation ends there, with a moment's flick of her eyes toward the children. "Remus, if you would bring these three back to Gryffindor tower and call Magical Law Enforcement?"
"Right, yes, come along you three."
They leave, the kids looking like they plan to interrogate Lupin the whole way upstairs.
"A kind of very Dark creature. They feed on happiness. In their presence, it eventually becomes impossible to do anything other than relive the worst moments of your life. All the ones in Britain are on the prison island of Azkaban, feeding on the prisoners so they don't wander the country attacking at random."
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