Chapter 2: One

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The Daily Prophet , June 11, 2017.

WORM VERSUS WYRM!
DARK LORD'S LIVE DEATH EATER EXECUTION

The Daily Prophet was astounded to receive an announcement 

for our events listings this morning [...] 

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has begun fundraising efforts

to support the execution of 'traitorous' Death Eater 

Peter Pettigrew, alias Wormtail, to take place on the 

eighteenth of June. Live footage of the execution will 

be streamed over the Wizarding Wide Web, 

with additional prizes, events, and contests to take place

in the upcoming weeks.

Wormtail will be fed to infamous serpent companion 

Nagini, who has, per the announcement, 'been whining 

about this for months', if the total donations cross a 

threshold of 7777 Galleons. For the complete 

announcement, and details on donation tiers, prizes and

giveaways, please see Page C-1. 

[...]

The newspaper fell out of Sirius' shaking hands and spread out in a mess over the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place. No way, he thought. No bloody way.

"Sirius?" That concerned tone of voice belonged to Harry's friend Hermione, looking up from her plate at the other end of the table. The witch's eyes skimmed the articles strewn about the open space until she spotted it. "What's -- oh. Oh my goodness."

Before she could offer further comment, Harry stumbled into the room, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "Morning," he grunted. (It was afternoon.) "Where's the Sobering Draught? I've got a killer hangover. Sssomeone needs to keep Voldie away from the gin. I -- I mean he -- gets the dumbessst ideas..."

His forward stumble was halted by Hermione practically shoving the newspaper in his face, with a shrill shriek that had him clapping his hands to his ears. "Harry! Look! They're going to kill Pettigrew!"

The paper was promptly (and wandlessly) Banished back to the table in a somewhat neater pile. "Mione. Get. The. Sobering. Draught," Harry ground out, snapping his fingers at her. "You're killing me here. C'mon."

Annoyed, she withdrew the vial from her pocket and slapped it into his open palm. Hermione could have sworn she heard Harry mumble "...thanks, Severus," under his breath before he downed it, grimacing at the taste. After a few minutes, he had recovered enough to flop down at the table and properly read the newspaper.

"They're going to kill Wormtail," Sirius was muttering, his head in his hands. "Harry, Harry, they're going to kill him. He's right there they've gotta do it they're gonna --"

Harry patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. It was about as effective as one would expect, which was to say, not at all. "There, there, Siri. I know you wanted to do it yourself --"

"That's not the point," Sirius shouted, earning a wince from the younger two at the table. "Look at the prizes! I could win his head! " He shook the announcement page so vigorously it crumpled up and had to be flattened out again.

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