Tom was full of black lines. Only in Britain could people accept things this quickly, even wizards.
"That is not what I asked. Can you focus on the normal point for once? Is there anyone in Gryffindor called Peter Pettigrew?"
Ginny blinked, finally realising she had run wildly off course. Then she frowned. Gryffindor had over two hundred students, true, and she could not remember all the boys, especially the ones she seldom met. But she was sure there was no one with a name that strange. If there were, he would already be famous.
"Where did this person come from?"
"Eleven years ago," Tom said lazily, "Harry's father, James Potter, and his mother, Lily Potter, were found by Voldemort because someone sold them out. The traitor, according to the story, was Sirius Black, and he was sent to Azkaban. Before Black was captured, he went after another friend. The chase ended with half a street blown to bits and a rather messy body count."
"Thirteen people..." Ginny shivered. For a world with so few witches and wizards, that was no small number.
"The person Black supposedly tried to kill was never recovered," Tom went on. "They found only a single finger. And the name on the record was..."
"Peter Pettigrew?" Ginny finished, gooseflesh rising. Tom had laid it on thick enough that she guessed it before he said it.
"Then why would someone long presumed dead be in Ron's room?" Her voice tightened. "What is going on?"
"I do not know," Tom said bluntly. "But from what I am seeing, Pettigrew is likely Scabbers."
"Scabbers? He is an Animagus?" Ginny's voice shot up. "You are telling me Peter Pettigrew has been at my house as long as I have?"
"More or less," Tom said, barely keeping a straight face.
Ginny's mouth really was made for barbs. She stabbed others and herself with equal zeal.
"Then we grab him. I heard Professor Snape has a good stock of Veritaserum. We feed him a few drops and we will know everything."
"Huh?" Ginny stared up at him. "You want me to grab him?"
"I cannot go into Gryffindor, can I? This one is on you."
"Can I even do it?" She knew her limits. She could bully lower years, sure, but Pettigrew was a registered Animagus, a skilled wizard at least in Transfiguration.
"Idiot." Tom tapped her on the forehead. "Trick him. Ambush him. You have the Petrifying Eye, what are you afraid of?"
"Right." Ginny smacked her own forehead, annoyed she had forgotten her trump card.
A sudden thought struck her. "Who did you give the other basilisk eye to?"
"Someone you do not know," Tom said with a dismissive wave. "Not from our school."
"Definitely a girl," Ginny said, voice turning tart.
He did not deny it. "A seven or eight year old. Safety first. Girls need to protect themselves."
He had given the other Petrifying Eye to Gabrielle, and that version leaned heavily toward protection. In danger, the amulet would shield her and trigger the serpent's gaze, enough to keep even an adult wizard at bay. Fleur had been angry for half a month. Imagine opening a gift from your beloved, exquisite in form and powerful in function, your heart melting... then reading the little line at the end, please pass this to your little sister. Anyone would explode. Recently Tom did not dare provoke Fleur at all; better to have Narcissa source more jewellery as peace offerings.
"No," Ginny said, shaking off her jealousy. "I still know too few spells. You must teach me two more for self defence. What if Pettigrew runs?"
"Fine." Tom considered. "One more, Sectumsempra. Use it carefully. Without the countercurse the wounds will not heal."
Daphne brought joy, Hermione brought study, Fleur brought beauty, Astoria brought good luck. For fights, Tom would have to rely on Ginny, so he did not skimp on training.
...
Saturday dawned heavy.
When facing outsiders, Hogwarts still had a strong sense of collective pride. Yesterday they had been thoroughly humiliated by Ilvermorny and Castelobruxo. Thankfully Ginny and Cedric had salvaged a little face. Otherwise, many would not have had the nerve to show up for breakfast.
Tom ate, then went to check the Whomping Willow. With summer coming on, its foliage was getting lush. A harvest would be ready soon. Combined with the centaur-brewed solution, the production of "Whatsapp" would finally move into proper mass output.
"Tom!"
Hagrid waved from the kitchen garden as Tom was about to go pull pests.
"About those Acromantulas," Tom asked when he reached him, "can we count on regular deliveries?"
Hagrid nodded firmly. "With the hobs and the ghouls you set up, Aragog's brood will not starve."
"Good. Then in the summer, please pass the materials to Fawkes. He will bring them to me."
Hagrid agreed with a complicated look. Dumbledore's bird, now acting like Tom's courier...
They parted. Tom spent a quiet morning with Astoria and Daphne, then, when it was time for the meeting, headed to the Astronomy Tower.
Isabella was already there, and Professor Alessio as well, both waiting.