The erald flas roared, and Madam Alia Bones stepped crisply out of the grate. She brushed a speck of soot from her heavy, dark-grey Ministry cloak, her monocle glinting in the firelight as she took in the crowded office.
She saw Dumbledore, looking grave. She saw the Weasley parents, looking horrified. She saw the students huddled near the window.
And then, her sharp gaze landed on the man bound tightly in magical ropes on the floor.
Alia froze. The color drained from her face, her usually unflappable deanor cracking under the sheer impossibility of what she was seeing.
"What...?" Alia breathed, taking a faltering step forward. "How?"
She whipped her head toward the Headmaster, her voice rising in a rare display of genuine shock. "Albus! You told that there was a simple criminal trespasser captured in the school! You didn't say..."
"I have not lied, Alia," Dumbledore replied smoothly, folding his hands before him. "He is indeed a criminal, and a trespasser. However, if I had stated over the Floo network that we had Peter Pettigrew currently tied up in my office... you would have categorized as a liar or a lunatic imdiately, and perhaps sent healers rather than Aurors."
Behind Alia, the flas flared again. Kingsley Shacklebolt and John Dawlish stepped into the room.
Kingsley about to say sothing paused as he saw the prisoner. Dawlish actually dropped his wand, fumbling to catch it before it hit the floor.
"Secure the criminal," Alia barked, snapping back to her administrative instincts.
Kingsley and Dawlish didn't hesitate. They moved instantly to flank the groveling, sniveling form of Pettigrew, raising their wands and casting overlapping, heavy restraining charms.
Alia took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. She looked around the room, assessing the witnesses. She saw the teachers. She saw the Gryffindors.
And then, her gaze fell upon Orion Malfoy, leaning casually against a bookcase near the back.
A look of profound, utterly exhausted resignation washed over the Head of the DMLE's face.
Of bloody course, Alia thought, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Orion caught the look. He leaned over slightly toward Professor McGonagall, who was nearby.
"That is the fourth ti tonight," Orion grumbled softly, sounding genuinely annoyed. "Why do they all look at with that exact sa expression? It's not like I am that bad. I'm just standing here."
McGonagall turned her head slowly and leveled a glare at him that could have shattered glass. She didn't dignify the comnt with a response.
Alia shook her head, forcing herself to focus on the impossible reality on the floor. She turned back to Dumbledore. "Albus. What is this? Explain."
For the next twenty minutes, Dumbledore and Remus Lupin took turns detailing the entire, sordid history.
Lupin held nothing back. In his desperate need to ensure Pettigrew was arrested and Sirius was freed, he even revealed the truth of his own lycanthropy, explaining how the Marauders had illegally beco Animagi to support him during the full moons. He detailed the switch of the Secret Keeper, the betrayal, and the confrontation on the Muggle street.
Alia listened in silence, her face hardening into a mask of pure, bureaucratic horror.
"Oh my god," Alia whispered, staring at Pettigrew, who was now weeping silently between the two Aurors. "This is dangerous, Albus. Incredibly dangerous."
She began to pace, the implications crashing over her.
"We just concluded the fallout from the Lockhart scandal," Alia muttered furiously, rubbing her temples. "It took months to manage the public outcry over an Order of rlin recipient being a fraud. And now? Now we have another Order of rlin recipient—a martyred war hero—who faked his own death, frad another man for mass murder, and is the true architect of the Potters' betrayal."
She stopped pacing and shot a venomous glare at Orion, fully assuming the boy had sothing to do with uncovering this ss, given his track record.
She turned to her Aurors.
"Kingsley. Dawlish," Alia ordered, her voice like cracking ice. "Take him to a maximum-security holding cell in the lower levels of the DMLE. Cast Animagus Alerting wards on the cell imdiately. He is not to be left alone. Ensure absolutely no one else has access to him—no dia, no clerks, no other Aurors."
She leaned in close to Kingsley. "He must not escape. And you will not release your position, nor speak of his identity, until I arrive personally. Am I clear?"
"Crystal, Madam Bones," Kingsley rumbled. He and Dawlish hoisted the bound Pettigrew to his feet and dragged him toward the fireplace. With a flash of green flas, the traitor and his guards vanished.
Alia let out a long, shuddering sigh. She turned back to the adults in the office.
"We need to talk about this," Alia said grimly, crossing her arms. "Because there is absolutely no way Cornelius Fudge is going to accept this."
Arthur Weasley stepped forward, looking confused. "But... we have the man! The proof is undeniable!"
"Proof does not matter to a politician terrified of public opinion, Arthur," Alia countered bitterly. "Fudge had already been an absolute nuisance when it ca to the Lockhart scandal. He fought every step of the way because it made the Ministry look incompetent for giving a fraud an award."
She gestured toward the empty fireplace.
"If I go to him now and tell him that the Ministry imprisoned an innocent man in Azkaban for twelve years without a trial, while simultaneously awarding the true culprit the Order of rlin, First Class? He will panic. He will try to bury it. He won't agree to revealing this at all."
"He must!" Molly Weasley cried out, hugging Ron tightly. "An innocent man is suffering with Dentors!"
"Fudge controls the narrative, Molly," Alia sighed. "He will argue that Pettigrew's mind was altered, or that it's a trick. He will fight the exoneration to save his own career."
The room fell into a heavy, defeated silence. The adults understood the political reality. Catching the bad guy was only half the battle; getting the governnt to admit they were wrong was often impossible.
"He won't agree," a calm, smooth voice drifted from the back of the room, "if only you go to him, Madam Bones."
Everyone turned.
Orion Malfoy pushed off the bookcase, stepping into the center of the office. He looked perfectly composed, his dark robes immaculate, his blue eyes glinting with a cold, calculating light.
"You are a dedicated law enforcent officer, Madam Bones," Orion said politely. "But you are soone working under him, in simple terms. You cannot pressure Fudge because he knows you are bound by protocol."
He offered a slow, incredibly wicked smirk.
"But I can get him to agree. Easily. If you want."
Alia frowned, her monocle glinting. "You? A thirteen-year-old boy is going to strong-arm the Minister of Magic?"
Orion let out a soft, theatrical chuckle. He adjusted his cuffs, his posture screaming aristocratic superiority.
"Madam Bones," Orion drawled, his voice laced with pure, unadulterated Malfoy arrogance. "While I do not normally stoop to using this particular, terribly cliché dialogue... it feels like the absolutely perfect ti to say it."
He looked her dead in the eye.
"Wait until my father hears about this."
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