Carrying the sleeping Scabbers, Tom stepped into his personal pocket world.
The potion he had brewed was simple, a Sleeping Draught laced with a measure of the Draught of Living Death. The latter was a little too fine in quality, which made the waking process troublesome.
To save time, Tom chose the most straightforward method.
"Crucio."
The balding rat began to convulse without awareness. After roughly thirty seconds it jolted awake, but Tom did not lift the curse, he pressed harder. Another ten seconds, and Scabbers finally could not maintain the guise, his body ballooned and twisted, until a squat, balding, scruffy middle-aged man lay there.
One look at him and the true meaning of the word "sordid" clicked into place. The fact that his Animagus form was a sewer rat felt almost merciful.
"Stop, stop it…"
Scabbers, no, Peter Pettigrew, squealed as he begged Tom to cease. Vines slithered up and bound him tight, and only then did the red arcs of the Cruciatus fade.
Tom summoned a plate of biscuits and a jug of milk, ate at an unhurried pace, and gave Pettigrew ample time to recover.
By the time Tom had nearly finished, Pettigrew had crawled back from the pain that clawed at his soul. He lifted that oily face into an ingratiating smile, his voice thin and sharp. "Tom, I am not a bad man, my name is Peter Pettigrew, a recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class."
"Oh?" Tom set down his cup. "Sounds like a hero. Then why are you hiding in Hogwarts?"
"Because I have a terrifying enemy," Pettigrew said, terror washing over his face. "His name is Black, Black is the Dark Lord's cruellest henchman, he is the one who murdered my friend James."
"Hagrid told me quite a lot," Tom said, obligingly playing along. "I know Black. He has already been sent to Azkaban, perhaps he is dead already, drained by the Dementors. So why keep hiding? You could come out and enjoy your hero's welcome."
Pettigrew put on a pinched, troubled look. "Black is gone, but Death Eaters still slipped the net. For safety I could only become a rat and evade their hunt. Child, you do not understand how dreadful the Dark Lord and his servants are."
"How is it I do not believe you?" Tom tilted his head. "Best to hand you over to Professor Snape, let him make the judgment."
Outwardly Pettigrew looked pained at the lack of trust, inwardly he exulted.
He knew Snape, they were colleagues once, even partners of a sort.
Snape leaked the prophecy to Voldemort, he provided the address as an agent. A perfect pairing, only the boss fumbled, failing to kill even a child.
"If you insist, child," Pettigrew said, eyes whirling. "If I appear like this inside the castle I will cause panic. Give me the antidote first, let me recover my mobility, all right?"
His limbs were still weak, his voice trembled. Transforming into his Animagus form was out of the question.
"No need to make it so complicated," Tom smiled, raising his wand. "I can help you move."
A thread of light flashed, Pettigrew's eyes rolled back and he slumped into unconsciousness, shrinking back into a shabby, molting rat.
It was not Animagus magic, it was Tom's brute-force Transfiguration.
He shoved the rat back into the glass jar, left the pocket world, and walked only a short way from the Slytherin common room before stopping at Snape's office. He knocked without ceremony.
A moment later Snape's irritable voice snapped from within.
"Whatever it is, come back tomorrow."
"I am resting."
Excellent, he was in.
Ignoring the shout, Tom twisted the handle. The door had been locked. He used a bit too much force, and the lock came off in his hand with the knob.
Hearing the forced entry, Snape stormed out of his bedroom with wand raised, only to meet Tom at the threshold, a doorknob dangling from the boy's fingers.
Tom:
Awkward. He had come to deliver a gift.
"Levicorpus!" Snape finally lost control and spat the spell.
Invisible force rippled over Tom's clothes, lifting a hem and nothing more, then faded out entirely.
"Did you skip dinner?" Tom blurted before he could stop himself.
"Riddle, do you have a death wish?"
Snape's robes billowed, his magic fully roused. He was genuinely angry now.
"Wait," Tom raised both hands. "Professor, that slipped out. You calm down first. I have something important."
"Did you not hear me?" Snape's face was as black as a raven's wing. "I said, whatever it is, tomorrow."
"Can't. This is important."
Tom's expression turned grave. Snape, half-fooled, glanced into the corridor and shut the mangled door.
"Spare me the rubbish. What is it."
"Actually…"
A bad feeling crawled up Snape's spine. He took two wary steps back and braced a hand on the desk.
Because the boy's bashful smile had returned.
In nearly two years of knowing him, Snape had learned that smile meant his blood pressure was about to spike.
"Truth is," Tom said, taking in the office that held almost nothing of value, "the night of the Halloween feast, first year, when your stores were five-finger-discounted, that was me."
"So it was you…" Snape started, then the words hit home. His gaze turned knife-sharp. He bit out each word. "You. Not Quirrell?"
"Not Quirrell," Tom said, looking at him as if he were slow. "He had all his attention on the third-floor corridor. Why would he pick extra fights with you."
"I should have known…" Snape's lips trembled with anger. "A dragon heartstring, a sphinx's eye… half the components of that accursed Physique Tonic line up with what I lost…"
Tom arched a brow.
Snape did have some chops, he had parsed out quite a few of the tonic's ingredients.
"Riddle, do you truly think I cannot lift my wand?" Snape hissed, fury rolling off him. "You do something this disgraceful and still come to gloat, "
"I'm not here to brag. I came to apologize," Tom said, sounding genuinely contrite. "Back then I was a greenhorn who had just entered the wizarding world. I happened to acquire a precious potion recipe, but none of the primary ingredients were anything I could obtain. Luckily I had your… sponsorship as my start-up capital."
"You call that bloody thing a sponsorship?" Snape let out a disbelieving laugh. "If it was an apology, you should have come long ago. Why wait until now? Trying to irritate me to death so you can take my place as Head of House?"
Tom froze.