HP: The Big Bad Wolf

For obvious reasons, Gaydore didn't get back up and had to be carried off to St. Mungo's Hospital by Sluggy. Who would've thought that slapping an elderly man in his 80s and making him fly into a wall would have negative side effects?

I for one did not think of it, I mean the dude is supposed to be a legend that has battled and defeated another legend, and now he goes down on me, by just getting Bitch slapped?!

*Sigh*The disappointment I feel is indescribable. It's as if I've overestimated the difficulty of this world. But then, I'm reminded that literal Gods are running around getting children, and I instantly calm down.

Now, I find myself sitting inside the Great Hall with Gramps and more than a dozen other jerks like us. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about the situation; it's sort of like an Avengers movie, but way less cool. It's more like a parody called "Assholes Assemble." Definitely, or rather sadly not a porn video—more like assholes as in their personalities are crap.

I mean, I could star in a porn flick with how great I look, and the whole industry isn't even set up for me to take it for myself before the Jews and Italians go wild.

"Severus, have you been daydreaming again?" my Gramps asks, annoyed.

"No," I reply way too high-toned, making it obvious I wasn't paying attention.

"So did you get the point of the matter?" he asks, knowing full well that I didn't listen to their long-winded crap.

"I did, but maybe you can reiterate it for me so that I can be certain we're all on the same page," I respond, and I can hear him audibly sigh.

"Those morons," he starts, pointing towards the Marauders—or rather three-quarters of them, as I have one of them in my possession, "are saying that you've taken their friend hostage."

"Okay?" I reply.

"Now, those bigger morons," he points to the Marauders' elders, "demand that you release said friend of theirs or face their wrath."

"Do they now?! Did they actually use the word 'demand'?" I ask my Gramps.

"Well, more or less, that old goat fucker," he points towards Lord Potter, "said, and I quote, 'I command you, Prince, to make your imbecilic grandson release his hostage, or we will treat him like the human animal that he is!'"

"Wow, that's one fucked up thing to say!" I say, surprised by the way the man worded his sentence. Like, come on. Why would an educated person ever resort to using those words in that combination? It's like declaring yourself an asshole for everyone who hears you speak.

"Gentlemen, and ladies, Allow me to confess. I do indeed have custody of one entity named Peter Pettigrew. But..." I try to say.

"See! See, I told you he has kidnapped our friend!" Sirius shouts excitedly, pointing his finger at me.

'Uneducated fool! Is this the proper way for a noble to behave and present himself in front of a distinguished audience?!' I think, disgusted.

I can see his Lord looking at his antics with displeasure, and I feel amused.

"Let the boy finish his sentence, you idiot!" My Gramps says equally annoyed.

"As I was saying before being rudely interrupted. I do have a Peter Pettigrew in my possession, but I highly doubt that my Peter is the one you are looking for!" I say, shrugging.

"Why?" Lady Longbottom asks me.

"Because my Peter is this," I summon Reek into my pocket and pull him out.

And I don't forget to throw a look of pure schadenfreude towards the idiots because now they have two options: either they come clean and confess that they're, in fact, human animals, or they offer to buy the rat off my hands.

Also, even if they confess it changes nothing because too many people are present, and if they want Peter without throwing a fuss they've got to bow to my demands.

Either way, I'll have something to look forward to, and meanwhile, I take in the expressions on all the faces as they look at Reek with a mixture of disgust, shock, and anger.

"So?! You see that my grandson's Peter is not the Peter you're looking for!" Gramps says with a smug expression.

"I'll buy your rat," Potter says suddenly.

"Sorry, not for sale!" I reply.

"10 Galleons!" he insists.

"Nah, I'll pass," I reply as I wave my head.

"My son has offered you ten Galleons for your rat, and as far as I can see, that is a gracious offer," his father adds, annoyed at me. Seeing how James is his only child, he doesn't deny the boy anything.

"So what? I'm not obliged to sell my rat just because your son wants me to," I reply dryly.

"100 Galleons," Sirius jumps in.

"Huh?! Black, even if you offered me all the Galleons on the planet, I would not sell my shit to you," I say, disgusted at the mere thought of giving something I own to Sirius.

Finally, I see Remus doing the smartest thing and whispering something to his father.

'Hehe. I love it when the pieces fall together as they should,' I think smugly.

Next, I see some people who are aligned together move away, but not before telling me, "Wait here, boy."

"Sure, take your time," I reply as I summon a Hogwarts elf and beckon him to bring me something to eat.

We've been here for the better part of the day, and to be honest, I am famished.

First, they all threw tantrums, next they dueled, and finally, they threw even more tantrums about which asshole decided to intervene in a sacred duel rite.

'Well, I never denied being an asshole so I do not feel insulted,' I thought at that time.

But I could see that even my Gramps was disgruntled, and would later on demand an answer from me.

Well, just as I am about finished with my food, I see them all return, and I can see some interesting expressions.

Some look disgusted, some unnerved, some outright angry, and finally, some hopeful.

"Boy, give us the rat!" Lord Potter demands.

"Nah, I don't like your tone, so I'll pass," I reply before my Gramps can intervene.

No need to play hide and seek with people who have an inflated vision of themselves and I need some feats to my name if I want to induce people with awe.

"What did he say?" Lord Black asks, shocked, not expecting me to reply and stand up to an established Lord.

"He said that he will not hand his possession over for no reason," I answer in a mocking tone.

And I can see Lord Potter getting more and more angry with each passing second.

"What do you want for the rat?" Lord Potter finally asks the million-dollar question.

"That is indeed one very interesting question, Lord Potter," I say while scratching my chin.

"Spit it out, boy," he demands.

"I want the Cloak, and an oath that it is the one I want," I say dryly, losing all sarcasm in my voice.

"What cloak?" Someone asks, but I don't answer, and neither does Lord Potter.

We look at each other dead in the eyes for what feels like an eternity, but I am not bowing down even when I can feel his magic, indicating that he is ready to pounce at me.

I just throw out my own magic, making half the room look at me with pure shock mixed with fear.

"I am not some pushover like your son wants you to believe," I say each word as calmly and as slowly as I can without making it sound cringy.

He, after feeling my magic, calms down, contemplates, and finally grinds his teeth in frustration.

"I oblige. But know this, Prince, you have started a blood feud with the Potters," he says through gritted teeth.

"Whatever," I reply, shrugging my shoulders before saying, "I want both the Oath and the Cloak from you this weekend and then you'll get the rat."

"So be it," he says before standing up and leaving Hogwarts, and I can feel waves of magic rolling off of him as his anger changes the very space around him.

'Hehe, moron! That is what you get for loving your kid too much,' I think, amused.

The situation is pretty simple, actually. Well, maybe it's not for dumbasses, but from my point of view, it's straightforward.

If it gets out that his son is an Animagus alongside his friends, it will also get out that there's a werewolf in the school because I'll be manipulating shit to make it happen. And once this information surfaces, it will throw Gaydore, him, and their whole Light 'Progressive' Faction into the worst political mess possible.

So, for his Faction, for his son, for his friends, and for political favors from his faction, he has to hand over the cloak to me.

Also, he knows that I know what it is, and that I won't be destroying it. He also now knows that he can't brute force his way, because both me and Gramps are insanely strong. So he thinks he can get it back either by finding something to use against me, or by having his children take it back from mine in the future.

After all, it's just a cloak, despite all the legends and other crap about it. And his son's and family's future is far more important.

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