“Hi Draco” Harry said, smiling into his mirror.

“Hi Harry! How’s the holiday?”

“Just got back in from swimming!” Harry pointed to his damp, wayward hair

“Brrr! Rather you than me: must be cold enough to freeze the horn off a narwhale.”

“Nah! Dad’s got this cool water warming charm. Anyway, how’re you?”

“Dad’s hung Isis’ trophy in the long gallery” Draco beamed “Pride of place with all the other family trophies and, guess what, he’s commissioned an artist to paint me and her!”

“Cool!”

“Yeah, oh! and Dad said that, if you and Theo like, you can be in the portrait too! Theo says he will if you will.” Draco added with a wink.

“Oh, how’s Theo and Sal?”

“Great, though Theo’s dad’s been teasing him that Sal should be in Gryff!” Draco giggled.

“Bet Theo was well pleased about that” Harry chuckled. “Have you heard anything from the others? I caught Blaise this morning; apparently his mum’s insisting on him taking Balthazar, his anaconda to Hogwarts. Apparently it’s now bigger than he is: he got it when he was five!”

“Oh whoopee!” Draco drawled “He has to feed that thing whole chickens. Totally gross. Anyway, I’ve seen Hermione. She’s fine…”

“Harry” Severus called from the door “if we’re going to make the shops, we’ll have to leave soon!”

“Okay Dad!”

“Bye for now, Harry.” Draco said cheerfully, waving briefly before shutting his mirror.

Severus smiled, remembering how he and Lily had enjoyed using their little mirrors; during their second year they had spent the entire Easter holidays doing odd-jobs to buy a small, third-hand set. The mirrors had been cracked and the sound was tinny but the hours of pleasure they’d owed to them were innumerable: the similarities between the words ‘only’ and ‘lonely’ were more than mere coincidence, in Severus’s opinion, which is why he’d bought the rather expensive six-way mirrors for Harry and Draco.

“Dad! Draco’s having a portrait done with Isis and he wants me to be in it too!” Harry chattered, grabbing his coat from behind the door. “Do you think we’ll have time for a cream tea whilst we’re out? I really love the raspberry scones in Seaview Café.”

OoOoO

“He was pretending to be some kid’s pet? Oh Dad, that’s awful!” Harry said, licking jammy cream from his sticky fingers.

“Yes, that is the Headmaster’s opinion” Severus handed a crisp, linen napkin to Harry. “Professor Dumbledore has interviewed… one of the animagus’ former friends and, if the student’s description of their lost familiar matches with the animagus, our understanding of the situation will improve.”

“Poor kid… I’d be dead upset if Reggie turned out to be some dark animagus. ‘Specially as he sleeps in my bed and everything.”

“I think we can be quite sure that Reggie is a snake, Harry” smiled Severus. He had asked Salazar and, after a thorough laugh, the ancient wizard had told him that, if the serpents could speak Parseltongue, then they were definitely snakes.

“Um, Dad?”

“Yes Harry?”

“Er, you know how I’ve got three owlets and I’m going to give one to Nev and the other to Hermione?”

“Mmm” Severus replied, taking a sip of his tea.

“Well, d’you think that kid would like the third? I mean, they don’t have a pet any more and Hedwig’s owlets are definitely owls.”

Severus eyes were as warm as coals “I think that is a very kind offer, Harry. I’m very proud of you.”

Harry beamed. His dad was the best.

oOoOo

“Good evening, Mr and Mrs Weasley, young Master Weasley. Please take a seat.” Dumbledore said politely, indicating to the chairs set out around his desk.

“Good evening Headmaster. Now, you said you’d explain why we’re here when we got here…” started Molly, setting down her large, over-stuffed handbag.

“Yes, yes indeed my dear Molly.” Albus replied, steepling his fingers. “However, if I may, I would like to ask young Ronald a question before I explain?”

“He’s not in trouble, is he?” Molly asked, glaring at her son.

“No, no not at all. Mr Weasley, you have a rat familiar, Scabbers I believe?”

“Yeah?”

“Speak politely, Ronald!”

“Did your familiar, Master Weasley, have any distinguishing features?”

“Huh? Erm, well, he had a bit of his paw missing, Sir.” Ron replied, scratching his head.

“Which paw?”

“Er one of his front legs, the left, I think.”

“And, if you could hold up your hand, Ronald, which finger was missing.”

Looking considerably flustered and confused, Ron lowered his ring-finger.

Mr Weasley fiddled with his glasses “Albus, I appreciate your concern over Ron’s pet but I don’t understand…”

“Arthur, do you remember a young Wizard named Peter Pettigrew?”

“Pettigrew… yes, yes indeed. Who could forget?” Arthur replied, his blue eyes sad.

“Poor man!” sniffed Molly “Not very bright but a good heart.”

“As loath as I am to contradict you, Molly, it turns out that Peter Pettigrew was, in actual fact, in Voldemort’s pay.”

“No!”

“He staged his death” Albus continued solemnly “Peter was, in fact, an unregistered animagus and, after blowing up his surrounding area, he morphed into a rat and ran into the gutters.”

“The largest piece left was his finger” breathed Molly. “But, wait, that would mean poor Sirius…”

“Was innocent” the headmaster said heavily “Yes, indeed. Last Friday, Mr Pettigrew, who had been posing as a pet, decided to venture into the Slytherin dorms, where he was met by a hungry python. Peter, fatally, decided to return to his human shape, which the sleeping children’s familiars perceived to be a threat and responded accordingly.”

“A rat…” Ron said quietly.

“Yes, Mr Weasley. The finger Mr Pettigrew removed was, in fact, his left ring-finger.”

“Oh sweet Freya…” gasped Molly, paling.

“Indeed, Molly. No one is more horrified than I” said Albus quietly.

“But… Scabbers… He was just a rat. An ordinary rat!” Ron said tersely, his ears reddening.

“That may be the case” Albus levelly replied “However, until such time as Scabbers returns to you, it may be of some comfort to avail yourself of the offer of an owlet. One of your year-mates’ familiars has hatched three eggs and they have offered one to you, should you choose to accept it.”

“I don’t want one of Potter’s owls!” cried Ron, blushing maroon.

“Ronald, you aren’t too big for me to put you over my lap, young man!” Molly said, her brown eyes flashing.

“Mum!”

“Ron, from what I’ve been hearing, you’ve been treating poor, young Harry dreadfully this past term. I didn’t bring you up to behave like this!”

“He’s a Slytherin!”

“That as may be, but he’s being very generous and thoughtful. You’d better pull your socks up, my boy!” snapped Molly, pulling on her gloves “If that is all, Headmaster, I think I will take this one home for the week.”

“Muuum! I told Seamus…”

“Well you can un-tell him. Come along Ron, Arthur.”

As Molly Weasley shepherded her menfolk outside, Albus relaxed back in his chair, steepling his fingers. He had a feeling that young Ronald Weasley would be accepting Harry’s ‘olive branch’ whether he liked it or not.