"Now my plan," muttered Harry as he placed his finger on Peter's forehead.
A small wave of magical pulse erupted from Harry's finger, and in the next moment, he found himself standing in an unfamiliar place. The place was dimly lit and had no proper organized shape or structure.
Everything present in the surrounding was almost in a dilapidated condition. There were a few small stone castles, but they were falling apart and in a ruined condition.
The trees and plants, though they stood still, were charred black. Not because of being burned by fire but because of something else. It gave the feeling of being corrupted by something evil. Something sinister.
Be it the clouds floating in the sky or the ground below Harry's feet, everything felt corrupted.
This unfamiliar place was the mindscape of Peter Pettigrew.
For a pureblood like Peter, he ought to have had some defences, but years of him remaining in a rat form had crumbled all his defences. There was not an iota of resistance the rat could put up. Not that it would have mattered against Harry.
And the darkness in his mindscape, the blackened surfaces of those structures, that corruption and evilness in his mindscape was a result of Voldemort's dark mark. The mark had corrupted Peter's mindscape. It had turned Peter into the slave he was of Voldemort.
Harry, using his own powerful mind arts, had invaded Peter's mindscape and sent a projection of his own subconsciousness inside Peter's mindscape.
What Harry was doing was something very much more advanced than Legilimency. It was a few levels advanced than what the current wizarding world was capable of.
Harry could not only read through all of Peter's memories but also modify them as per his wishes. Harry spotted a random stone castle, the newest of the lot, which were housing the latest of Peter's memories, and walked towards it.
.
.
.
Harry was done with his plan, involving Peter, in a few minutes and had returned to Britain, more specifically to a house in a small magical village located close to Diagon Alley.
With a calm and composed expression, Harry approached one of the houses and knocked on the wooden door. The wards of the house stirred for a moment, and then the gate was unbolted.
Bertha Jorkins peeked her head outside while hiding her body behind the door.
"Mr. Potter," she said as she opened the door.
Harry gave a nod and walked inside. He walked inside the house and took his seat on the sofa placed in the hall. Bertha returned after closing the door and took her seat opposite Harry.
She was now much calmer and more composed as she had reined in her emotions. Even so, she felt her heart beating frantically in nervousness. She had no idea what was about to come.
"Miss Jorkins," said Harry, breaking the awkward silence. "Do you want to know why Peter Pettigrew is alive?"
"Where he was all this time?" He continued in a deep voice. "And why did he attack you?"
Bertha nodded her head much faster than she had wanted, "Yes… Mr. Potter."
Harry maintained his neutral expression as he spoke. "I assume that you must be aware of the legendary story of Sirius Black being the Secret Keeper of the Fidelius charm under which my parents had gone into hiding, and then of his betrayal, and then later of Peter Pettigrew's brave and life sacrificing confrontation of Sirius Black."
Bertha nodded, and Harry continued.
"The truth is, however, slightly different. Sirius Black was not the Secret Keeper. Peter was. He was the one who betrayed my parents. He was the one responsible for my parents' death."
Bertha gasped at this revelation. Her mouth was wide open, and she could not immediately process what she had heard.
"Then why would Sirius Black spend so much time in Azkaban? Why would he suffer such a fate? Why not tell the truth?" Bertha voiced her confusion.
Harry shook his head. "He was never given the chance. Sirius Black did not get a trial in the Wizengamot. He was captured and thrown into Azkaban."
Bertha frowned. Even if she was dumb… nothing made sense.
She countered. "But how is that possible? He was Lord apparent of the Black family… He was next in line to inherit the Black Lordship. How could he be treated like this?"
"He was treated like this… never allowed to say the truth precisely because he is Lord apparent of Black house," Harry answered with an impassive face. "Your previous boss… Barty Crouch Sr., the then DMLE head, saw to it. He was repaying some favours."
"There is only one family which would benefit from Sirius Black remaining in Azkaban and is close to Mr. Crouch," murmured Bertha. Even if she was a less intelligent person, this much of hint was enough for her to guess the direction of the truth.
"Malfoy family," Harry completed her line of thought.
Bertha Jorkins remained silent and tried to process all what she was hearing.
"But why would Peter Pettigrew remain hidden then?" she questioned. "He could have lived a life of hero… a life of rich and respected noble… a life of luxury."
"Because a few of Voldemort's," said Harry, and Bertha flinched at the name but Harry continued unbothered, "supporters believed that Peter Pettigrew double crossed him… after all, he was the one who led Voldemort to my parents and he was defeated and vanished thereafter."
Bertha nodded in understanding.
"Where was he hiding?" she questioned.
"Peter Pettigrew was an unregistered Animagus," said Harry. "He was hiding as a pet in one of the magical families."
Understanding that Harry did not want to tell the name of the magical family, she did not intrude.
"And he wanted to kill me because I saw him alive?" She questioned with a frown.
"Yes," said Harry. "And because he wanted to prove his loyalty by offering you to Voldemort."
Bertha flinched back in fear, and an expression of deep horror crept her face. But this was not because of fear of the name.
"Offer me to the Dark Lord?" She mumbled in disbelief.
"He is alive?" She questioned in horror.
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