Peter

The more time passed, the more the mystery of the map intrigued him. He had tried everything to make the name disappear from the map. He had turned it off and on several times. He had tried using reparo on it and then all the other repair spells he had learned. Finally, he placed his wand on the point designating Peter and said out loud that there was a mistake. A message from the four marauders then appeared:

Cornedrue would like to inform his heir that he should not question the wisdom of his ancestors.

Patmol understands that there is doubt about the existence of Cornedrue's wisdom, but he personally saw with his own eyes, a witness claiming that the wife of his brother's cousin had one day had proof of it. And that for once he was sober.

Lunard will point out that it was enough to tell him that the Marauder's Map never lies.

Queudvert would like to add that it is not a mistake.

This reinforced Harry's confusion. He asked his classmates if they knew a student named Peter Pettigrew, but none of them did. If this Peter really spent all his time in their dormitory, one of them would surely know him. At the end of a class, he asked Sprout, who replied that the name rang a bell but she couldn't quite remember. In any case, she was sure he wasn't a student at Hogwarts. It wasn't until February that he got the answer he was looking for. After several hours of fruitless searching, Harry had the idea of leafing through the copy of the Hogwarts Golden Book located in the library. It was an immense volume carefully kept in the headmaster's office, but the library and the ministry kept a magically updated copy. Since the school's creation, at the end of the graduation ceremony, the graduating students would inscribe their names, signatures, and a comment about their schooling in this book, which would be preserved forever for the delight of historians and those nostalgic for their childhood.

After several hours, he jumped to the point of dropping the book on the floor. He had just found a line filled with:

Peter Pettigrew: James, Sirius, Remus, thanks to you these 7 years were unforgettable. But what really surprised him were the 3 names just above:

•James Potter

•Sirius Black

•Remus Lupin

All of a sudden, Harry remembered where he had seen the name Peter. His name was present in practically every issue of the gazette that summer. He was one of the 13 people that Sirius Black had killed the day he was caught. The wizard who had tried to stop him before he committed the irreparable.Why did the map claim that a person who had been dead for 13 years was in his dormitory? He had to know more about this Peter. The immediate way that came to mind was to write a letter to Lupin. But that would take too long. There was no way he was spending another night in the dormitory until he had solved this mystery. Which left him with only one person.

Professor Snape, do you have a minute?

The professor gave him a look that, by some strange miracle, managed to express both contempt and annoyance. Snape hadn't even uttered a word before he already regretted his decision.

Of course, I have all the time in the world for the great Potter. What could be more important than catering to your every spoiled brat demand?

He took that as a yes and entered the office. With all the time he had spent there in detention, it was unlikely to find that the place still frightened him. Despite the beautiful afternoon sun, the professor's lair was dominated by intense darkness that moved to the rhythm of the single candle placed on his desk. Not intense enough, however, to hide the eyes in the jar that seemed to follow him with their gaze and various other unappetizing substances that filled the shelves.

I would like to know. Did you happen to know Peter Pettigrow?

Immediately, without putting down the paper he was correcting, Snape shot him a look filled with restrained anger. I mean with even more anger than usual.

I had this inconvenience. Did you just come to waste my time, or have you decided to start mocking me again? Perhaps you think your pathetic Occlumency shields are strong enough that you no longer need your lessons.

I dream of it as much as you do, but no. I need to know what the connection is between him, my father, and Sirius Black, and you are the only person here who knew them.

Correction. I am the only person present who has an objective memory of that band of juvenile delinquents. Go whine in McGonagall's robes before you nullify all my efforts to join the rest of the wizarding world in the sweet oblivion of the congenital defects with which those errors of nature were afflicted.

I doubt that McGonagall remembers all her students. I'm sure she would have tons of things to tell me about James or Sirius but it's Pettigrew that interests me.

This time Snape abandoned his copy.

Why this sudden interest in Peter?

This is the question Harry had wanted to avoid. But given that the professor always managed to bypass his Occlumency shields in less than two minutes, he thought it more prudent to tell the truth.

He took the map out of his pocket, praying Fred and George would forgive him for this sacrilege. Then he placed it on the desk under the doubtful gaze of Snape. Then he placed his wand on it and said, "My intentions are bad." Immediately, Snape's gaze brightened as he saw the map of the castle appear. Then Harry pointed his wand at his dormitory, and immediately he felt as if his birthday had been moved forward. He distinctly read the name Peter Pettigrew. He was so happy at the prospect of sweet revenge that it opened up to him that he forgot who he was addressing and began to speak to him in an almost gentle tone:

How long has his name been on the map?

Since at least Christmas. But I think he was there before. I searched the dormitory in every way, but I found nothing. When I realized who he was, I thought (...)

That the map was deceived by a spell he had put in place. Snape completed.

I wrote to Fred and George. They are the ones who gave it to me for Christmas, he explained, seeing Snape's questioning look. They told me that the map never lies.

Snape passed his wand over the parchment for a few seconds.

Impressive. What a pity that your friends decided to devote their talents to such trivialities. The creation of this map is a magical feat as impressive as those great wizards could have achieved. I myself am not sure I could recreate such magic. But their arrogance is only partly justified. Even if I personally know of no spell capable of deceiving the magic of this map, that does not mean it is the same for Voldemort's former right-hand man.

I don't believe they created this map. I think it was a group of former students who called themselves the Marauders.

Upon hearing this last sentence, Snape's face became so drunk with contained anger that his jaw began to snap.

You! (...) You!

Harry adopts the attitude of prey in front of a predator about to charge. He remained motionless, hoping to survive through a misunderstanding.

What was it? An elaborate trap to ridicule me. Yes, I admit it, as psychopathic and swollen with pride as your father and his crazy friends were, when they used their brains for something other than annoying the world, they could do great magic. Are you happy now?

The Marauders were (...)? Began to ask Harry.

As if you didn't know! Snape interrupted violently.

Then little by little, Snape's anger subsided and he began to think. He had examined the magic covering the map himself. And to his great shame, he meant every praise he had spoken about it. Whatever his desire to harm him, Harry could never have mystified the map. And he had explored his student's memories enough to know that he knew too little about James Potter to have orchestrated this. To his great satisfaction, it was Lily Potter he knew the most about.

He resumed in a softer tone:

The Marauders were the name given to the gang of delinquents that your father was part of.It also included Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. A dark wizard, a werewolf, and two fools who were killed by the first. They must have created this map at the end of their final year. As a co-creator of this map, Sirius Black must be aware of its existence and how to deceive it. His sick mind would undoubtedly have found it poetic to make it seem like his most recent victim was watching over his new target. That's just his style.

But Harry's mind had retained only one thing. It was in a tone almost as angry as Snape's that he asked:

How did he kill the other two? What does he have to do with my father's death?

Lost in his own thoughts, Snape did not realize the state Harry was in.

I will simplify so that the underdeveloped brain you inherited from your progenitor can understand. Dumbledore set up an extremely complex spell called Fidelitas that prevented Voldemort from finding your parents' house even if he was pressed against their living room window. At least as long as the man chosen to be what is called the secret keeper does not reveal it to him. Dumbledore naturally offered to be the keeper. But in his arrogance, your father refused and despite all warnings, preferred to designate his so-called best friend. Everyone told him it was a bad idea. I was the first to do so after discovering that there was a traitor among the Potters' close ones by spying on the dark lord at the risk of my life. But the opinion of the common people did not matter to the great Potter. By his criminal negligence, he not only signed his death warrant but also that of my poor Lily.

But Harry was no longer listening. A hatred unlike any he had ever known seized him. He had only one idea in mind. He was going to kill Sirius Black. No, he was going to make sure that he begged to die and then he would deliver him to the Dementors. His eyes turned red and without a word to the professor, he rushed into his dormitory. He had never had such a clear mind in his life.

Without paying attention to his classmates who were looking at him with bewildered looks or Snape who had followed him, he flung open the door of the dormitory and then headed towards the cage of his pet rat.

Endoloris

It came to him like an illumination. As if a little voice inside him had whispered it to him. Wormtail like the repugnant tail of a certain rat. Padfoot like the paws of a certain rabid dog.