Magic? || Years 1-5

Peter Pettigrew: Year 3

Amisty shuddered slightly, having never heard him sound so vicious.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid. Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I -- I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him... a heap of bloodstained robes and a few -- a few fragments -- " Fudge stopped speaking, his words followed by everyone at the table blowing their noses.

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta. Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta sighed heavily, her eyes shadowed, "Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was. I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man -- cruel... pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit there muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored -- asked if I'd finished reading my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him -- and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night," Fudge replied.

"But what do you think he's broken out to do? Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?" Madam Rosmerta asked worriedly.

"I daresay that is his -- er -- eventual plan. But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing... but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again..." Fudge avoided the question easily, it went unnoticed.

There was a clink of glass, someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," Professor McGonagall decided.

Amisty watched through the boughs of the Christmas tree as they all slowly got to their feet, adjusted their cloaks, and headed out the door, bringing forth another flurry of snow.

Once they were gone, all three of them ducked under the table.

"Harry?" Amisty asked hesitantly, her concern evident in her voice.

His eyes were distant, not as bright green as they had been when she first saw him in Honeydukes. She didn't know what else she could say.

None of them did.

-=+=-

Harry had headed back up to the castle through the Honeydukes entrance, still in shock over what they had heard in the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione and Ron had already left the village, going to console him.

Amisty wanted to, she really did, but she needed to collect herself before she could attempt helping him.

And that left her alone, sitting on the bench outside Zonko's with nothing but the swirling snow as company.

Of course, that never lasts long when it came to her.