The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 315 Ministry of Magic Inquiry and Awakening

Chapter 315 Ministry of Magic Interrogation: Awakening (4.1K) (Bonus Chapter Thanks to Everyone for Your Support)

"Ban—Banban?" Ron's voice was dry, like sandpaper rubbing.

A cold, sticky, nauseating sensation crept up his spine, making him shiver involuntarily.

"No—impossible—it—it's just a rat! An old and useless one—"

"He's no ordinary rat, Ron!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, her voice shrill with shock, but her mind remained remarkably clear.

She turned to Mrs. Weasley, her words flying, "Mrs. Weasley, what's going on? The Daily Prophet only vaguely mentioned Peter Pettigrew, saying the situation was complicated—but you're saying he was disguised as Scabbers? How is that possible? And what does this have to do with Harry's disappearance? He didn't even come back to his dormitory last night!"

Hermione's barrage of questions broke Ron's frozen state of shock, and he jerked his head up, his grey-blue eyes filled with confusion and an urgent search for answers.

Mrs. Weasley looked at the children's pale faces and was about to continue explaining—

With a soft "bang," the door to the teachers' common room was pushed open.

The caretaker, Filch, led Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny in.

Upon seeing their mother suddenly appear at Hogwarts, Fred and George exchanged puzzled glances, while Ginny appeared somewhat nervous, her gaze quickly sweeping across the room before landing on Ron and Hermione, whose faces were extremely pale.

"The children are all here, Professor," Filch said hoarsely.

"Thank you, Mr. Filch. You may leave now," Professor McGonagall said gently.

Filch grumbled and reluctantly turned to close the door, clearly also interested in the reason for Mrs. Weasley's unexpected visit.

As soon as the door closed, Mrs. Weasley sprang into action.

She didn't speak, but walked quickly to each child, grabbed their arms tightly with both hands, and carefully looked them over from head to toe, as if she were checking goods to make sure there was nothing missing or damaged.

When it was Ginny's turn, she rubbed her daughter's cheeks vigorously with her palm, as if to wipe away some unseen dust.

"Mom?" Percy spoke first, his tone filled with confusion. "What emergency has happened? Is it about those unverified rumors circulating in the Great Hall about our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" He chose his words carefully.

Fred was much more direct: "Mom, you look like you're about to get a beating from someone."

George nodded: "And Ron looks like he just swallowed a can of phlegm-filled slugs."

Ginny asked softly, "Mommy, are you okay?"

Mrs. Weasley rubbed Ginny's cheek, then straightened up, her gaze sweeping over each of her children before finally settling on Percy's face. She spoke in a heavy tone, "Children, I have something very serious to tell you. It concerns what happened to Harry last night, and it concerns our family's past."

She paused, making sure everyone's attention was on her. "This morning, your father and I were at the Burrow when we saw the Daily Prophet. That report is lying, or rather, it's deliberately covering up the truth. We saw the true report on the Stone Tower Chamber of Commerce's bulletin board."

"Covering up the truth?" Percy's attention was immediately drawn; he was very sensitive to this kind of term. "Newsboard? Mom, the sources on those aren't necessarily reliable—"

“This time it’s perfectly reliable, Percy!” Mrs. Weasley interrupted him decisively, her voice laced with obvious anger. “There’s photographic evidence! Peter Pettigrew isn’t dead. He betrayed the Potters, killed them, and then framed Sirius Black. He himself has hidden in Animagus form—a rat, a fat rat missing a toe.”

Her gaze shifted to Ron, filled with heartache and deep anger: "He impersonated Scabbers and hid in our house—for twelve whole years."

That sentence was like a bomb being dropped into the room.

"Scabbers?!" Percy's voice rose, filled with a sense of absurdity. "Mom, this is too much! Scabbers is—is gone! This is a fact we all know!" He emphasized the word "knows," wondering if his mother was hallucinating from excessive worry.

Fred shook his head vigorously: "Mom, that old rat's bones have almost been digested into dust by Crookshanks."

George chimed in, "And if it were a person, it would be incredibly patient, being carried around in Ron's pocket every day."

Ginny whispered, "Spotted—is it a person? It even bit me—" She rubbed her fingers together as if the teeth marks from years ago were still there, her face filled with disgust and disbelief.

"Children, I understand how you feel." Mrs. Weasley's voice trembled slightly as she struggled to suppress her anger. "The thought that filthy thing lived in our house, right under our noses, with my children for twelve years—sleeping in your rooms—makes me—"

She took a deep breath, clenched her fists, and her usually kind eyes were now burning with raging anger.

At this moment, Hermione looked at Professor McGonagall beside her and noticed that there was no surprise on her face.

So she asked in a low voice, "Professor McGonagall, is what Mrs. Weasley said true? That Peter Pettigrew isn't dead, and has been disguised as Scabbers among us all this time?"

Although Hermione's voice was very soft, it was still heard by everyone in the lounge at that moment.

All eyes immediately focused on Professor McGonagall.

Her expression was stern, her thin lips pressed into a straight line as she met the children's questioning and slightly uneasy gazes, and she nodded slowly and with absolute certainty.

"What Mrs. Weasley said," Professor McGonagall's voice was clear and calm, carrying a heavy force that seemed to end all argument, "is all true. Peter Pettigrew is alive; he is an unregistered Animagus in the form of a rat. He betrayed James and Lily Potter and framed Sirius Black."

Professor McGonagall's testimony was like the final guillotine.

Percy's mouth opened and closed futilely a few times, like a fish out of water, but ultimately no sound came out. She simply staggered back a small step and leaned against the wall. The mockery on Fred and George's faces vanished completely, leaving only stunned silence. Ginny let out a short gasp and tightly covered her mouth.

Ron finally couldn't hold back any longer, bent over, and let out a violent retch, his whole body trembling.

Hermione instinctively reached out to support him; her hands were also icy cold.

Just then, the door to the lounge was pushed open again, and Filch's usual disgruntled face peeked in, but this time, he was followed by a figure that no one expected—Arthur Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked, somewhat surprised.

"Arthur?" Molly Weasley's surprise deepened. She hurried to her husband, her face filled with confusion and a newfound unease. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the ministry?"

Arthur Weasley's face was more somber than when he left home that morning, even showing signs of exhaustion and suppressed anger.

He gave his wife a quick hug and said in a low voice, "I came straight from the department, Molly. Something's happened, Fudge—the department needs us all to come in for questioning." His gaze swept over all the children in the room, and when he saw Ron's pale face, his eyes darkened even more.

Hermione's attention was drawn to what was behind Mr. Weasley.

After Filch stepped aside, two figures dressed in crisp, formal robes walked in silently.

Their expressions were serious, and their sharp eyes scanned everyone in the room.

Hermione recognized the outfit—it was the uniform of an Auror from the Ministry of Magic that she had seen before at school.

Mr. Weasley turned to Professor McGonagall, his tone apologetic and urgent: "Professor McGonagall, I'm very sorry to bother you, but the situation is urgent. We need to use the school's fireplace and use the Floo Network to get directly to the Ministry of Magic."

Professor McGonagall understood the seriousness of the situation. Without hesitation, she stepped aside to make way for the fireplace and replied succinctly, "Of course, Mr. Weasley. Please go ahead. Should I inform Dumbledore?"

"I think the minister has already contacted the principal," Arthur said, gesturing for his family to follow. He looked at Molly and the children, trying to sound calm, but to no avail. "Alright, kids, don't worry, it's just answering a few questions. Come with us."

Molly gripped Arthur's arm tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force. She didn't ask any more questions, only conveying her worry and inquiry through her eyes.

Percy immediately straightened up, a mixture of tension and seriousness on his face. Fred and George dropped all their joking expressions, exchanged a glance, and frowned. Ginny instinctively moved closer to her mother. Ron, still reeling from the shock and nausea, was gently nudged by Hermione and moved along, still somewhat dazed.

The two Aurors didn't speak, but simply made a polite "please" gesture.

In a heavy and oppressive atmosphere, the Weasley family followed Mr. Weasley toward the carved fireplace in the teachers' common room.

Professor McGonagall and Hermione stood to the side, watching the flames rise again and again, the green light reflecting on everyone's uneasy faces.

Lynch walked through the open door to the teachers' common room and saw the last green flame in the fireplace slowly dying down.

He glanced around the room—Professor McGonagall and Hermione standing facing the fireplace, and Filch leaning against the door, looking somewhat gloating.

"Did I arrive at the wrong time?" Lynch asked, his gaze sweeping over the empty fireplace and the faces of everyone present. "Who just used Floo Net to leave?"

Upon hearing his voice, the three of them turned around at the same time.

Hermione spoke first: "Good morning, Professor Lynch." Her voice still carried a hint of unease. "It's Ron and his family—Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with all the children—who have been summoned by the Ministry of Magic."

Professor McGonagall frowned and added, "It's about Peter Pettigrew."

Her tone was heavy; the shock of learning the truth from Dumbledore last night still lingered in her mind. She never imagined that such a huge injustice was hidden behind the murder of James and Lily twelve years ago.

Thinking of this, she couldn't help but glance at Lin Qi with a complicated expression.

According to Dumbledore, the entire operation to clear Sirius's name in Hogsmeade last night was orchestrated by the man before him.

This filled her with inner conflict: on the one hand, she was sincerely grateful to Lynch for bringing the truth to light and exonerating her student Sirius; on the other hand, the thought of Harry being dragged into danger and now lying in St. Mungo's Hospital made it difficult for her to suppress her dissatisfaction.

As the vice principal, she always believed that students should not be put in dangerous situations.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall." Lynch met her gaze and nodded frankly, as if he didn't see the complex expression on her face.

Lynch then turned his gaze to Hermione, who still looked worried, and softened his tone: "There's no need to worry too much, Miss Granger. The Weasleys are essentially victims of this incident as well; the Ministry of Magic's summons is more of a formality."

He changed the subject naturally, asking, "Speaking of which, do you have any plans after class this afternoon?"

'

Hermione paused for a moment, then instinctively replied, "Nothing special. Is there anything you need me to do?"

'

"It's about Harry," Lynch said calmly. "He's been receiving treatment at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Damage, mainly for the injuries he sustained last night after encountering the Dementors. I think having a friend visit him at this time will probably cheer him up."

"St. Mungo?" Hermione gasped, her hands unconsciously gripping the hem of her robe.

She finally learned Harry's whereabouts, and her heart, which had been hanging in suspense, was relieved, but she was also worried about his condition.

"Of course I'll go!" she agreed without hesitation, her voice filled with urgency. "Is he...is he alright?"

66

Lin Qi thought for a moment: "He should be alright."

The distinctive scent of St. Mungo's Hospital for the Magical Injuries, a mixture of disinfectant, potions, and a faint melancholy, filled Harry's nostrils.

His eyelids twitched a few times, and he opened them with difficulty. What came into view was an unfamiliar dome bathed in soft white light and white sheets.

My body felt completely drained, every bone aching, but the deep-seated, bone-chilling emptiness from the Dementor's kiss had faded, replaced by extreme weakness and exhaustion.

He turned his stiff neck, his gaze sweeping across the ward before suddenly fixing on the figure beside the bed.

Sirius Black sat with his eyes closed in a hard-backed chair very close to the bed, leaning slightly forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

He was no longer wearing his tattered prison uniform, but had changed into the light-colored hospital gowns uniformed by St. Mungo, with a dark morning robe loosely draped over it.

His once greasy, wild-looking black hair has been carefully washed and trimmed, restoring the elegant, slightly wavy hairstyle characteristic of the Black family. Although it appears somewhat dull due to long-term malnutrition, his original handsome and upright features are still visible.

However, his face was still frighteningly pale, his lips were bloodless, and his eyes were sunken with heavy shadows.

Most strikingly, even through the loose hospital gown, the outline of the thick bandages wrapped around his chest and abdomen could be seen. Occasionally, even the slightest adjustment of his posture would cause his brows to furrow almost imperceptibly, and his breathing to pause for a moment, revealing the immense pain and weakness his body was enduring.