Disclaimer- Harry Potter and its respective characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Authors Note- So this is my first try at fan fiction, I've been on the site for long enough and thought that maybe I should contribute to it for once. This is a plot of my own invention, based on the idea that Harry got tired of waiting for something to happen at the beginning of OOTP and decided to do something about it instead. I've planned this entire story in full and plan to update it once a week, which may turn into once every two weeks when I resume Uni but I'm optimistic that won't be the case!

Harry is fed up with the lies of the ministry, the slander of the prophet and the inaction of everyone around him in the face of Voldemort's return. After careful thinking he has come to a conclusion: find Peter Pettigrew and you find the truth. Hence Harry puts a 100,000 Galleon reward on Peter's head and watches as the entire magical community goes mad in the race to find him.

Most Wanted: Peter Pettigrew

30th July 1995

– 7pm, Surrey

Harry was wondering how he got to this point in his life.

Here he was, crouching outside his Uncle's living room, trying to desperately get any news about the outside world. His friends had been useless; full of excuses and false cheer that made Harry's teeth grate in anger. "I'll tell you about it later!" Surely he was entitled to a little knowledge by now, after everything that he had been through and accomplished; he had faced Voldemort four times now and survived each encounter.

Recently his mood had soured immeasurably towards Dumbledore and his friends. What were they doing? He had heard of nothing, had seen no trace of any action in the Daily Prophet. He had noticed of course the bullshit the Prophet had been printing about him and Dumbledore, and had read about Dumbledore's recent dismissal as head of the ICW last week. But oh no! He shouldn't worry! They had it all sorted apparently, if the letters he received were anything to go by the war was already half won!

'-And now back to Mike Gordon with the latest updates on England's performance in-'

Harry slumped down in disappointment, groaning in frustration; if they were onto sports now there was nothing else of interest to be gleaned from listening to the news. Scowling he pushed himself up and went back to his room, slamming his door on the way to vent his frustration. Restraining the current urge he held to scream (he could only imagine how well that would go down with his Aunt and Uncle; their poor, crazy, no-good nephew had finally lost it) he viciously opened his trunk and pulled out his homework. A distraction seemed like a good idea at the moment. Hedwig hooted at him reproachfully as his copy of "Travels with Trolls" was flung violently across the room, as Harry turned to glare at his owl.

'What? It's not my fault you're not doing anything useful this summer,' Harry muttered viciously as he threw another one of Lockhart's books onto the floor. 'Maybe if you brought me good news once in a while I wouldn't be in this mess!'

Harry knew he was being unfair to Hedwig; after all it wasn't her fault that he was being boycotted by all of his friends. But right now he needed to vent, and since everyone else was apparently content to leave Harry steaming in his room, alone with no contact this was all he could do. Flashes of graveyards and Cedric's body replaying over and over and-Harry shook his head, desperately trying to think of anything else other then Cedric.

He had been responsible for his death; all the reassurances of his friends and Sirius could not dissuade him from this conclusion. Harry had been the one who had stopped Sirius and Remus from killing him in his third year, out of some misguided sense of honour that Harry had at the time. The graveyard replayed in his mind and all Harry could focus on was the coldness in which Peter had murdered Cedric; no hesitation, no thoughts whatsoever about what he was doing-was he so casual in giving Voldemort the location of his parents as well?

Peter Pettigrew deserved to die.

Does he really deserve death? A voice that vaguely reminded him of Dumbledore echoed in his mind and Harry's answer was blunt.

Yes.

He was the man who was responsible for his parent's murders. The same man who murdered twelve people, betraying Sirius and sending him to hell on Earth. The same man who condemned Remus to thirteen years of loneliness, who after all that, continued to ruin his life by depriving Harry of the opportunity to grow up around people who might have loved him. The same man who had cut Harry's arm open, resurrecting Voldemort and murdering someone who Harry considered to be a friend. Pettigrew probably killed more, Harry thought darkly, after all he was a death eater; how many people had he murdered in group attacks? How many more had he betrayed to Voldemort?

A loud hoot from Hedwig startled Harry out of his thoughts and he fought to keep concentrated on his textbook and not on all the ways he wanted to murder Peter Pettigrew. Sighing he opening his copy of "A History of Magic" to the section on Goblin Rebellions, dipping his quill into his inkwell. He did have to complete a 20-inch essay on the ramifications of Goblin rebellions in the 18th Century anyway, and what better way to distract himself then with his most boring of subjects? Harry's eyes flickered to Hedwig, who ruffled her wings and turned away from him, making him scowl down at his paper in determination. After this paper he was going to send a short, vindictive, and vague letter to everyone that he knew so that they could all understand what he was feeling at the moment. Spurred on by this bitterness he began reading.

Urg the Unclean is regarded today as one of the most important figureheads of the Goblin rights movement, following Tugog Logburner who instigated the 1612 Rebellion of Hogsmeade. (See page 394 for more on Tugog Logburner and Thakrak Hell-Hawk) Urg was renowned for striking an alliance with the Wizards of Dufftown after his fulfilment of the contract placed upon the dreaded highwayman Earnest Voltar. Upon killing Voltar he presented the body to Mayor Antony Hemingway, who in response allied himself with Urg for dealing with the dangerous highwayman.

Of course historians dispute that Voltar was not, in-fact, a highwayman but rather a wizard rumoured to have been having an affair with the Mayors wife.

The alliance was short-lived but remains to be the most recent instance of magical cooperation between Wizardkind and the Goblin Community. Born from this alliance was the integration of bounties as a third party member of the judicial system, designed to keep "The Wizards in place" as Kuga the Gorger said. The business of bounties have now become a long-standing honour placed tradition amongst the Goblin Nation.

The most recent case being Lenora Jopkirk, a witch accused of murdering several of her husbands in order to lay claim to insurance money. After being ruled innocent of murder and fraud by the Department of Law Enforcement a joint partnership between Pushgrimp Theghaw and Lady Hortensia Thenaldire (the sister of Ms Jopkirk's third husband) resulted in a bounty of 50,000 Galleons upon her capture. Captured in 1952 by Janus Oberon Black III she was found guilty of her crimes and sent to Azkaban-

Any focus Harry had on writing his essay was long gone as he stared down at his book. "A long-standing tradition" the book had said; does that mean it's still in use now? Harry's head began to whirl as an idea began forming in his mind. Since the truth could not convince Fudge or the Ministry of Voldemort's return, then perhaps money would. He stood up excitedly, pacing in his room as a plan began to form in his mind. If Voldemort wouldn't play fair then neither would Harry! If money could convince Fudge to turn his back on the truth then perhaps Harry could use it to turn it back again. Hastily grabbing his quill he began writing a quick letter, grimacing as he struggled to remember the name of the Goblin he had met when he was eleven. Gold-hoop? Something Gurdy? Griphook!

To Griphook,

You may not remember me but I met you on my first visit to Diagon Alley when I was 11. My name is Harry Potter and I would like to make an inquiry about bounties-

Harry paused in his writing, deciding that being vague would probably be the best option if his message were given to the wrong person, after all if the ministry got this letter Harry had no doubts that they would somehow peg it as treason and send him to Azkaban.

-I was wondering if Gringotts still maintains the higher authority in managing such events and what sum you'd imagine would hypothetically be considered to be an above normal sum in regards to such an award for the capture of an individual.

Thank you for your time,

Harry Potter

'Hedwig!' Hedwig looked at Harry haughtily and ruffled her feathers as she slowly came out of her cage. 'I need you to take this to Griphook in Gringotts, and no one, I repeat no one Hedwig can look at this message besides him. Please?' He added as Hedwig narrowed her eyes, before reluctantly placing out her foot for Harry to attach the message. With a final nip on his finger she flew out the window, Harry watching her go until she disappeared entirely into the night sky.

-oOo-

31st July 1995

It was the next morning that Harry began having doubts about his plan. After all he was basically declaring war on Voldemort publically by even considering this idea. Then there was the possibility that the Ministry had gotten a hold of the message and was currently finding a way to get him arrested. He'd been on edge for the entire day and had jerked so violently when a car backfired that he ended up smashing one of Aunt Petunia's display plates. She had ended up screaming at him for a full half hour about how that plate was a present from "Dear Old" Mrs Winters who lived two houses down, and had sent him up to his room for the rest of the day with no food as punishment. Never mind the fact that Petunia had loudly been gossiping about the woman that very morning, apparently what Harry had done was bordering on treason for her. As the day began to wind down, Harry came to the conclusion that his letter was probably not taken seriously. Even though he felt a small flare of relief at that idea, he glumly imagined the Goblins laughing at Gringotts; thinking about crazy Harry Potter who was so desperate for help that he was willing to pay for it.

A hoot in the distance caught Harry's attention and he immediately went to the window, peering out for any sign of Hedwig. Instead he received a face full of feathers as he spluttered as Pigwidgeon flapped around the room. His mood immediately looked up as he noticed the letters attached as well as several packages that were hovering on the floor. Harry suspected that Pig had needed some help in bringing the packages and Harry hastily shoved some owl treats in front of him in order to keep him quiet. He had received a number of letters and he immediately grabbed the one that had Hermione's neat lettering as he ripped it open, hoping that there'd be some sort of news if the mass pile of letters were any indication.

Happy Birthday Harry!

With a start Harry remembered that it was indeed his birthday and suddenly his mood dropped again.

So sorry that I haven't be able to write much, but I hope you have a-

He scrunched the letter up immediately and threw it into his bin. Of course he wasn't getting any news! Never mind him trapped here with his horrible, abusive relatives! They obviously didn't care that Harry had been going mad with worry about what Voldemort was doing, send him some treats and he'll be right as rain! With a scowl he roughly shoved the pile away from him, instead opting to watch Pig eat his treats. At least someone was enjoying Harry's birthday. As hunger set in he reluctantly opened a package and set about eating an entire box of Chocolate Frogs that Harry assumed Remus had sent.

He had just thrown his third Dumbledore card into the trash when another loud hoot drew his attention. Pig hooted loudly, startled as Harry hurtled to the window a smile growing on his face as he recognised Hedwig approaching. Relief spread through Harry as she entered the room giving him an affectionate nip on the ear. It seemed that he was forgiven.

'There you are! I was worried, you took so long.' Harry muttered, as he looked her over, eyes freezing on her leg…that had a scroll attached to it. Taking the scroll he sat down on his bed, silently debating on whether or not to open it. His eyes caught sight of the pile of birthday letters and Harry immediately unrolled it, his fingers shaking as he read.

Dear Mr Potter,

We at Gringotts are delighted to hear from you and will endeavour to answer any questions that you may have in regards to our other opportunities.

We will begin with your inquiry into bounties; yes the practise of bounties is still a legally recognised practise within the magical community, and is solely controlled by Gringotts and the Goblin Nation.

Secondly, the highest bounty ever issued by Gringotts was 100,000 Galleons. Any sum that reaches that range would be certain to attract not only local but international attention.

For further interest into such a hypothetical situation we have sent you a secure package, containing a formal bounty submission form as well as a summary of your current assets.

We at Gringotts wish you a very good day,

Griphook

Harry could hardly breathe; he seemed to be stuck in some odd out of body experience as he sat there on his bed looking down at the small piece of parchment. He instantly grabbed his vault statement and read over it, his eyes widening at the amount. Well he could certainly afford to be rewarding, he grinned as he grabbed a quill and looked over the form. Now all Harry had to do was fill it in, but the question remained: Who?

To put a bounty out for Voldemort would be ridiculous, no one would be suicidal enough to go for that no matter the reward. Lucius Malfoy would simply buy his way out and so would several of the other Death Eaters he had encountered at the graveyard. For a moment Harry was tempted to name Snape but a voice that sounded like Hermione kept on hounding him until he gave up on that idea.

'It has to be someone who can't buy there way out of it, someone who everyone will recognise but won't be able to do anything-' he muttered to himself, wracking his brain for a suitable candidate to be part of this crazy idea. It was as if a light bulb went off in his head as Harry laughed, and continued to laugh as the answer to all his problems revealed itself. It would be source of all his problems.

Peter Pettigrew

With fervour, Harry set about writing his bounty, jumping in surprise as the parchment glowed bright gold as he finished. He smirked as he saw the familiar scratchy scrawl flash on the bottom.

Gringotts thanks you for your business Mr Potter

If the public was so intent on not seeing the truth, then he would just have to make them see it. And with that Harry went to sleep that night, having the first peaceful rest that he'd had in a long time.

-oOo-

31st July 1995

– 10pm, The Ministry of Magic

Kingsley Shacklebolt had just been ready to depart for an Order meeting when a memo had shot through his floo bearing words that would come to haunt him in the future.

My office, now- Amelia

No body kept Amelia Bones waiting. Which was why Kingsley was now hurriedly speed walking down the atrium at the ministry, having been delayed by his need to send a patronus message to Dumbledore informing him of his whereabouts. The Ministry was practically deserted by this time, and Kingsley saw several late night stragglers walk past him hurriedly on his way to Amelia's office. Anything that could get Amelia worried immediately concerned Kingsley; the veteran auror was not someone who was easily moved and the blunt urgency of her message was enough to convince him that something was drastically wrong. He knocked on her office door and it immediately flung open, slamming shut behind him as it locked with a loud click.

'Amelia?'

Amelia Bones sat behind her desk, her eyes closed as if she was in pain, nursing a glass of whisky in her left hand. Kingsley noted that the bottle was half-empty and that she already had another one set out in preparation. She opened her eyes and held up a hand to stem his questions as she downed the rest of her drink before she grimaced at him.

'Sit Kingsley.' Amelia said hoarsely, flicking her wand as she summoned another glass and poured him a drink. He shook his head at the offer but she shoved it into his hands anyway.

'You'll need it.' Was her gruff reply to his concerned glance as she pushed an official looking document towards him, pouring herself another drink. She gave him a dismissive wave as he unrolled the scroll, eyeing the parchment with caution; The seal was from Gringotts and Kingsley was initially still at a loss as to what was the matter before he read the title, making a small chocking sound in the back of his throat as his eyes grew wide.

BY THE ORDER OF THE GOBLIN NATION

WE DECLARE THAT THE FOLLOWING INDIVIDUAL IS NOW

MOST WANTED

PETER PETTIGREW

Wanted Alive

Wanted for the murder of Cedric Amos Diggory, for participation in forbidden Blood Magiks', for conspiracy to commit the murder of Harry James Potter and Bertha Jorkins, for being a member of the cult known as "Death Eaters", for the act of Treason in the First Wizarding War, for the murder of no fewer than twelves muggles in 1981, for obstruction of justice in the case of Sirius Black, and for being an illegal animagus.

Be warned that the subject is an animagus in the form of a rat: distinguishable in human and animal form in that his right hand/paw is made out of silver

In the event of his capture or information leading to his capture into the authority of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

The sum of

100,000 Galleons

Will be paid in full by Harry James Potter

Kingsley noted with grim amusement that the "illegal animagus" part seemed to be tacked on as though it was an after thought. Taking his lead from Amelia he downed his glass and refilled it as she ran her hands through her hair.

'Potter was considerate enough to send us a copy in advance,' Amelia said wryly ending the sudden silence that had taken place between them. 'A copy's been sent out to every law agency in Europe,' she grimaced, 'as well as every printing press.'

'It will be madness,' Kingsley said, finally finding his words as he began imagining the chaos that would arise when this got out.

Amelia grunted in agreement as she stood up, turning to look out her window that overlooked the atrium. 'Tomorrow this place will be over run Kingsley,' Her voice said steely, lost in thought before she briskly assumed command of the situation. 'We'll have to issue a statement confirming the validity of this document, which it is,' she answered his unspoken questions as she handed him a document. 'You've been reassigned from finding Black to finding Pettigrew.'

Kingsley was rather taken aback by her acceptance of the situation. 'You think Potter's telling the truth?' He asked carefully and she grunted looking him in the eyes.

'Yes I do, and you wouldn't be in my office if I didn't know you think the same.'

With a nod Kingsley turned to leave, but he lingered before he turned to ask her the question that had been on his mind.

'Do you believe him?'

She was silent for a moment before a shadow crossed over her face.

'I was here the first time he came around Shacklebolt; I'd recognize the signs if it ever happened again.'

With that he was dismissed and Kingsley heaved a sigh of relief as he left the tension filled office. He looked over the empty desks of the DMLE rather wistfully as he realized that it would not be like this for a very long time. In several months time he would look back on this meeting and laugh, thinking about how very right he was.