Out of Inn: Monday, April 2, 1978 -- The Transfiguration Trick
Peter had been practicing the Transfiguration Trick for months, and now it was time to try it. He knew that he still wanted to continue practicing, but he also knew well enough that he was stalling. He'd delayed too long already--first because he suspected McGonagall would kill him if he did something so irreverent on Easter Sunday, and then again because there weren't enough students at Hogwarts over the spring hols to make an impression.
He waited until the evening meal on the Monday that classes resumed; he didn't want to have to compete with morning or afternoon classes for peoples' attention. He was too nervous to eat much. Fortunately, no one noticed.
About mid-way through the meal, he silently cast the first Charm--Aholomora--and the doors to the Great Hall flew open. A non-verbal Mobilicorpus, and the Giant Squid (which had been floating in a water-filled bubble of air for over an hour) drifted into the Great Hall. Before more than a few snickers could erupt, Peter cast the musical Charm Symphoniam Canto followed by Wingardium Leviosa, sending the Squid spiraling up to the ceiling to the tune of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody". It even looked as if the Squid was doing the singing.
Gripping his poplar wand beneath the table, he waved it in the intricate gesture that would cast the Barrier Charm which would protect the existing charm on the ceiling. The ceiling that resembled the sky by both day and night was one of Hogwarts' treasures, and Peter had no desire to destroy that. He made the Squid swoop down across the first section of the ceiling, which made it look as though the Squid was creating the barrier, colourless and opaque, which was following in its wake. An upward swoop--and suddenly that section of the ceiling transformed from starry skies to Earthrise, as seen from the moon.
Another downward swoop by the Squid, and another portion of the ceiling was protected by the Barrier Charm. Another upward swoop, and another image appeared--this one, the cantina scene from Star Wars. And it was moving.
On and on, images materialized to the tune of "Bohemian Rhapsody." A mating flight of dragons, performing a slow and languorous dance across the sky. Two teams playing rugby. A bakery so vivid that one could almost smell the breads, cakes and pastries. Starships zooming through space. A Highland landscape in autumn. A phoenix, weeping over a bloody battlefield. A picture of the Outside Inn for McGonagall. Sixty-four larger-than-life images in all, some moving, some not.
And finally it was done. The Squid's bubble leaned forward in a kind of bow, and then floated out as gracefully as it had arrived, the doors opening for it and then closing afterwards. Peter closed his eyes, hurrying the Squid back to the waters of its lake home.
He had just put the Squid back in the lake when he heard Dumbledore speak in a voice like thunder. "Who has done this?"
Now for the hard part.
Peter stood up, casting a surreptitious Sonorus Charm to ensure that everyone could hear him; he was under no illusions about how well his voice carried under normal circumstances. "I did," he said, enunciating as clearly as he was able.
Dumbledore gazed at him sternly, "Mr Potter, Mr Black, Mr Lupin and Pettigrew, report to my office--"
"No!" Peter yelled, for the first time understanding what "seeing red" meant. There really did seem to be a reddish mist across his vision. And he was too angry to care.
"No?" Dumbledore inquired in a voice as cold as liquid hydrogen.
"No," said Peter, his voice carrying to every corner of the Hall. "You're not listening. I did this. Not them. ME! They didn't know anything about it!"
Which, he reflected, should have been perfectly obvious, judging by Sirius's gape-mouthed expression, Remus's evident bewilderment and the flabbergasted look sprawling all over James's features. But then, adults were not always observant, he'd found. Especially when they thought they were being clever.
"You!" That was McGonagall.
Yes, Professor, Peter thought, and you know it, too. I know that young Min remembers in there somewhere.
"Peter," said Dumbledore in that wise-yet-sorrowful old mentor voice that invariably set Peter's teeth on edge, "why would you do something like this?"
Because I had to, Peter thought. You proved that when you assumed that the other three had been part of this and that I was just trying to grab all the credit.
Dumbledore stood waiting for an answer. Peter ignored him, and directed his answer to McGonagall.
"Out of curiosity, have you ever done anything like this? Something very tricky that you felt you had to do?"
He thought he saw a flicker of recognition in McGonagall's expression, but he couldn't be sure.
Dumbledore stared at him for a long time. At last he spoke. "Go to my office immediately, Mr Pettigrew, and wait there. Your Head of House and I have much to discuss."
Peter sighed, nodded, grabbed his books, quills and parchment, and exited the Hall, feeling as if he were impaled on a thousand eyes.
He did head in the direction of Dumbledore's office. Really, he did.
It wasn't his fault that when he turned a corner, he found himself walking into the Inn once more.
He waited until the evening meal on the Monday that classes resumed; he didn't want to have to compete with morning or afternoon classes for peoples' attention. He was too nervous to eat much. Fortunately, no one noticed.
About mid-way through the meal, he silently cast the first Charm--Aholomora--and the doors to the Great Hall flew open. A non-verbal Mobilicorpus, and the Giant Squid (which had been floating in a water-filled bubble of air for over an hour) drifted into the Great Hall. Before more than a few snickers could erupt, Peter cast the musical Charm Symphoniam Canto followed by Wingardium Leviosa, sending the Squid spiraling up to the ceiling to the tune of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody". It even looked as if the Squid was doing the singing.
Gripping his poplar wand beneath the table, he waved it in the intricate gesture that would cast the Barrier Charm which would protect the existing charm on the ceiling. The ceiling that resembled the sky by both day and night was one of Hogwarts' treasures, and Peter had no desire to destroy that. He made the Squid swoop down across the first section of the ceiling, which made it look as though the Squid was creating the barrier, colourless and opaque, which was following in its wake. An upward swoop--and suddenly that section of the ceiling transformed from starry skies to Earthrise, as seen from the moon.
Another downward swoop by the Squid, and another portion of the ceiling was protected by the Barrier Charm. Another upward swoop, and another image appeared--this one, the cantina scene from Star Wars. And it was moving.
On and on, images materialized to the tune of "Bohemian Rhapsody." A mating flight of dragons, performing a slow and languorous dance across the sky. Two teams playing rugby. A bakery so vivid that one could almost smell the breads, cakes and pastries. Starships zooming through space. A Highland landscape in autumn. A phoenix, weeping over a bloody battlefield. A picture of the Outside Inn for McGonagall. Sixty-four larger-than-life images in all, some moving, some not.
And finally it was done. The Squid's bubble leaned forward in a kind of bow, and then floated out as gracefully as it had arrived, the doors opening for it and then closing afterwards. Peter closed his eyes, hurrying the Squid back to the waters of its lake home.
He had just put the Squid back in the lake when he heard Dumbledore speak in a voice like thunder. "Who has done this?"
Now for the hard part.
Peter stood up, casting a surreptitious Sonorus Charm to ensure that everyone could hear him; he was under no illusions about how well his voice carried under normal circumstances. "I did," he said, enunciating as clearly as he was able.
Dumbledore gazed at him sternly, "Mr Potter, Mr Black, Mr Lupin and Pettigrew, report to my office--"
"No!" Peter yelled, for the first time understanding what "seeing red" meant. There really did seem to be a reddish mist across his vision. And he was too angry to care.
"No?" Dumbledore inquired in a voice as cold as liquid hydrogen.
"No," said Peter, his voice carrying to every corner of the Hall. "You're not listening. I did this. Not them. ME! They didn't know anything about it!"
Which, he reflected, should have been perfectly obvious, judging by Sirius's gape-mouthed expression, Remus's evident bewilderment and the flabbergasted look sprawling all over James's features. But then, adults were not always observant, he'd found. Especially when they thought they were being clever.
"You!" That was McGonagall.
Yes, Professor, Peter thought, and you know it, too. I know that young Min remembers in there somewhere.
"Peter," said Dumbledore in that wise-yet-sorrowful old mentor voice that invariably set Peter's teeth on edge, "why would you do something like this?"
Because I had to, Peter thought. You proved that when you assumed that the other three had been part of this and that I was just trying to grab all the credit.
Dumbledore stood waiting for an answer. Peter ignored him, and directed his answer to McGonagall.
"Out of curiosity, have you ever done anything like this? Something very tricky that you felt you had to do?"
He thought he saw a flicker of recognition in McGonagall's expression, but he couldn't be sure.
Dumbledore stared at him for a long time. At last he spoke. "Go to my office immediately, Mr Pettigrew, and wait there. Your Head of House and I have much to discuss."
Peter sighed, nodded, grabbed his books, quills and parchment, and exited the Hall, feeling as if he were impaled on a thousand eyes.
He did head in the direction of Dumbledore's office. Really, he did.
It wasn't his fault that when he turned a corner, he found himself walking into the Inn once more.