The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 301 Escape and Pursuit

Chapter 301 Escape and Pursuit (5.1K) (1/2)

In his mind, images began to flash rapidly: the Ministry of Magic's commendation order, the Daily Prophet.

The headlines, Dumbledore's approving gaze, the flood of praise, and the glittering Galleons—he would no longer be the tragic supporting character who "heroically sacrificed himself," but a living hero who would take revenge with his own hands!

No more eating leftovers, no more sleeping in a boy's pocket, no more enduring the pursuit of that damn cat!

He can walk openly in the sunlight and enjoy everything he "deserves".

"I did it—I killed Black! I avenged James and Lily!" he muttered to himself, his voice growing louder and louder, as if confirming something, or as if declaring it to the whole world.

Just then, Harry's shocked and incredulous voice rang out, jolting him awake like a bucket of cold water from his dream: "Who are you?!"

Peter jolted awake from his euphoric reverie. He realized there was another person present—Harry Potter, the most crucial figure and a key link in his plan that he absolutely had to control.

He quickly turned around to face Harry.

In the instant he turned around, the undisguised smugness and ruthlessness on his face receded like the tide, replaced by a carefully crafted expression that mixed "concern," "fear," and "sadness."

He tried to make his small eyes appear moist and sincere, and slightly hunched his body, attempting to regain that familiar, pitiful posture.

He cleared his throat and began his performance in a trembling voice, half acting and half genuine excitement: "Oh, Harry—my poor child—" His gaze swept quickly over Harry's still tightly gripped wand, his tone softening, even becoming slightly choked, "You must have been terrified—don't be afraid, it's alright now, this traitor, this devil, can no longer hurt you."

Peter Pettigrew's face was filled with a mixture of sadness and "concern." As he spoke, he cautiously took a small step forward, subtly concealing his wand behind his back to try and appear less threatening. His voice was deliberately soft and trembling, as if brimming with deep emotion: "Harry—my dear child, you certainly don't recognize me—but that's not your fault—" He sniffed, trying to make his eyes appear moist, "I am Peter Pettigrew, one of your father James Potter's most loyal friends! We—we were like brothers back then—"

As he spoke, he carefully observed Harry's reaction. Seeing Harry's wand grip seem to loosen slightly, he felt a surge of joy and continued weaving a lie in that tearful tone: "That night—that terrible night—I discovered Black's betrayal! I tried to stop him, but he—he was too powerful! He blew up the whole street, killed so many Muggles—everyone thought he killed me, they never even found my body—" Peter let out a timely sob, wiping away non-existent tears with the back of his hand, "But I escaped by sheer luck, with only one finger left—I had to hide, Harry! Black has gone mad, he's sided with Voldemort, he killed James and Lily, and he won't let anyone who knows the truth go! I had to hide, even—even had to humiliatingly become a rat, hiding in the Weasleys' house—all to wait for today, to wait for this opportunity to avenge your parents with my own hands!"

His words were like the spitting of a viper, full of distorted facts and malicious manipulation. He painted a picture of his own fabricated "heroism" and "sacrifice," utterly smearing the filth of betrayal against Sirius, whom he considered dead.

"Twelve years—I've lived like a ghost, afraid to show my true face, all for this moment!"

"Now, I finally—" Peter's voice rose again with excitement, his arms outstretched as if to embrace this moment of victory, "—finally avenge this blood debt! James—Lily—you can rest in peace now—"

Just as Peter was basking in his own brilliant performance, preparing to further seduce Harry with sweet talk and convince him that he was indeed the hero who had endured humiliation—

Lupin's voice suddenly rang out, breaking the somber atmosphere that Peter had carefully created.

"Harry! Are you alright?"

Lupin rushed over from the direction of Hogsmeade, panting heavily from running, his face showing just the right amount of anxiety.

His gaze swept quickly across the room, first landing on Harry to make sure he was alright, before finally settling on Sirius, who lay motionless on the ground. A fleeting hint of worry flashed in his grey eyes, but he immediately lowered his eyelids to perfectly conceal it.

"Professor Lupin!" Harry exclaimed, as if he had found a pillar of support, but his voice was still filled with confusion and shock. "What—what's going on? He said he's Peter Pettigrew! He said he's my dad's friend! He said Black—"

Lupin strode over to Harry, placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder, and subtly shifted his body to create a distance between Harry and Peter.

"I was following behind, and I came as soon as I saw the glow of the spell—thank you, Merlin, you're alright, Harry." Lupin's voice was still tinged with fear. He looked at Peter, his tone becoming complex and tinged with emotion, "Peter—you—you did it?"

Peter immediately seized the opportunity to show off. He puffed out his not-so-broad chest, his face a mixture of shock and triumphant excitement, and exclaimed in a shrill voice, "Yes, Remus! I did it! I couldn't let him hurt Harry! Just when he was about to lay a hand on Harry, I—I seized the opportunity! For James and Lily!" As he spoke, he glanced "concernedly" at Harry, as if to emphasize his role as protector.

Lupin nodded, his gaze returning to the fallen Sirius Black. His brow furrowed, and his tone became serious, carrying a subtle hint of guidance: "Are you sure, Peter? Is he—is he dead? Dark wizards often have ways to protect themselves; we must confirm."

"Huh?" Peter was taken aback by the question, and the excitement and pride on his face instantly froze.

He then realized that he had been so caught up in the euphoria of "victory" and performing for Harry that he had forgotten to check if Sirius was truly dead.

A hint of panic flashed across his eyes.

What if Blake isn't completely dead?

"I—I'll go check right away!" Peter said hurriedly, gripping his wand tightly and carefully moving towards the spot where Sirius had fallen.

He felt a mix of emotions, both hoping that Blake was really dead and being afraid to get close to the person who had once terrified him to the core.

Just as Peter bent down, trembling as he reached out to check Sirius's breath, another unexpected event occurred!

The body, which had been silent and like a rag doll, suddenly moved!

Sirius opened his eyes!

There was no confusion or weakness in those deep-set gray eyes, only cold determination and long-accumulated power!

"Bang!"

Almost at the same moment he opened his eyes, Sirius's raised arm snapped open like a taut bowstring, and a dazzling red light burst forth from the tip of his wand, swift as lightning, shooting straight at Peter's face!

"No—!" Peter was so terrified that he could only let out a shrill scream before his obese body froze on the spot.

The curse grazed his ear, the sharp shockwave cutting painfully into his earlobe before flying into the sky behind him and disappearing.

After missing his first attack, Sirius didn't hesitate at all.

He endured the excruciating pain in his chest despite wearing protective gear, but Peter had struck hard; his spell had indeed caused some damage. He took a deep breath, rapidly waving his wand in all directions, chanting the incantation: "Misty Clouds!"

Thick, milky-white mist appeared out of nowhere, spreading rapidly like a living thing, and in the blink of an eye, it enveloped an area of ​​tens of meters in radius.

Through the rapidly closing edge of the fog, Peter could clearly see Sirius struggling to his feet after casting the spell. His movements were unusually difficult and painful as he staggered and stumbled away from them, his figure instantly swallowed up by the surging white fog.

A wave of cold, damp air swept over them, obscuring everyone's vision and reducing visibility to less than one or two meters.

"Huff... Huff... He's gone!" Peter, still shaken, scrambled to his feet, waving his wand wildly.

"Peter! Come back! Come to me and be with Harry! Let's not be separated!" Lupin immediately pulled Harry closer to him and shouted in Peter's direction, his voice sounding muffled in the thick fog.

Peter almost instinctively took two steps toward Lupin's voice, habitually seeking reliance and instructions.

However, at that moment, Sirius's obviously weak and staggering escape image reappeared in his mind.

Just as his foot touched the ground, a thought struck him like lightning—

Sirius Black was seriously injured!

He is very weak right now!

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!

Get rid of Remus, catch up with him alone, and finish him off!

No one will ever know the truth again; I will be the true hero!

The ecstasy and ambition that came with this thought instantly overwhelmed the brief panic and dependence on Lupin.

He abruptly stopped, no longer responding to Lupin's calls. Instead, he held his breath, carefully turned around, and silently disappeared into the thick fog in the direction Sirius had vanished.

He needs to hurry!

However, the extent and concentration of the fog exceeded his expectations.

They hadn't gone far when all around them was a vast expanse of white, and they completely lost their way, even the outlines of rocks and withered trees became blurred.

He completely lost track of Blake.

"Damn it! This damn fog!" Peter paced back and forth anxiously, but dared not curse aloud.

Just then, he had a sudden inspiration and slapped his forehead hard.

We can't find a human figure, but what about a rat's sense of smell?

The smell of Blake, which hadn't been cleaned for a long time, was like a beacon in the dark to him, a rat!

Without further hesitation, his body rapidly shrank and deformed, transforming once again into the gray-black fat rat, Banban.

As soon as it landed, its pink nose started twitching wildly, trying to discern the mixed scents in the air.

found it!

Although diluted by the damp, cold fog, that faint, pungent smell that he both loathed and feared still pointed in a clear direction!

The smell seemed to be mixed with a hint of—fresh blood?

This further convinced Peter that Blake was exhausted and that his injuries were affecting him.

He heard Lupin's shouts from afar behind him, more urgent than before: "Peter! Answer me! Do you hear me? Come back now!"

But at this moment, Peter's heart was filled with the excitement of hunting his prey and the desire to escape the shadows of the past.

He, Peter Pettigrew, is finally going to take control of his own destiny!

On the fat rat's head and face, its black bean-like eyes gleamed with viciousness and greed.

He ignored everything behind him, using all four limbs to silently and swiftly dart into the depths of the thick fog, following the intermittent yet clearly discernible scent trail. He was determined to end Sirius Black's escape in this desolate place tonight.

Lin Qi calmly walked to the white curtain, and the two assistants of the Stone Tower Chamber of Commerce respectfully stepped aside.

He turned around, gave an elegant bow, and then looked around at everyone in the room, his gaze calmly sweeping over each face.

"Ladies and gentlemen," his voice was not loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly, "please allow me to show you an interesting little gadget."

He snapped his fingers, and ripples appeared on the screen, gradually coalescing into a clear image—a view of the Honeydukes candy shop's dazzling window display, with even the little wizard's happy expression clearly visible.

"We call it the 'Remote Observation Mirror'," Lynch explained with a smile. "It's based on Muggle image transmission principles, combined with improvements to visual runes from ancient runes. Its biggest advantage is that it produces almost no magical fluctuations, making it very suitable for... observation in specific situations."

The Director of the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters coughed lightly and then said, "It is indeed a practical invention, but the Ministry of Magic also has similar research results."

Barnabas-Goufe, editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, maintained his professional composure, but his fingers unconsciously tapped his knee: "The image quality is much clearer than the spy scope used by the Daily Prophet."

Minister Fudge waved his hand, slightly annoyed: "Mr. Lynch, our biggest concern right now is Blake..."

""

"That's exactly why." Lin Qi turned around gracefully, and with a light tap, the image on the screen instantly changed.

The howling wind seemed to penetrate the curtains and blow into the room, revealing the desolate hillsides surrounding Hogsmeade, with bare tree branches swaying in the wind.

"Potter!?" Snape's voice rang out.

He recognized the small, thin figure almost instantly.

"What's that kid doing there all by himself?" Fudge asked, puzzled.

The images on the screen slowly moved, and when the gaunt figure behind the boulder appeared, Fudge gasped, his finger trembling as he pointed at the screen: "B-Black! It really is him!" He turned to Crouch, his face a mixture of elation and panic. "We've found him! We've really found him! Quick! Send men to capture him!"

Crouch immediately turned to Scrimgeour: "Move out all available personnel immediately—"

"

"Please wait a moment." Lynch's voice remained calm, yet it clearly reached the ears of everyone in the room, halting Crouch's imminent arrest order.

He turned to Fudge and bowed slightly: "Minister, you seem to have forgotten that you personally issued the order to mobilize all the Dementors and set up an impenetrable encirclement around Hogsmeade." As he spoke, he gestured to Dumbledore beside Fudge, "And Headmaster Dumbledore is here too. Sirius can't escape."

Fudge paused, then slapped his forehead in realization: "Right...right right! Dementors! Dementors have surrounded Hogsmeade!"

Lynch's gaze swept over everyone: "Since that's the case, why are we in such a hurry? Blake has nowhere to run, so let's see what he's up to."

17

Dumbledore's gaze behind his half-moon spectacles sharpened, and his voice carried an unusual seriousness: "Professor Lynch, allow me to remind you that Harry Potter is currently in danger. As headmaster, I cannot stand idly by while my student is in peril."

Standing behind him, Snape remained silent, but his black robes billowed without wind, and the knuckles of his wand turned slightly white. His dark eyes gleamed with a cold light as he stared intently at Harry's figure drawing ever closer to Black's on the screen.

Lynch turned around calmly and bowed slightly to Dumbledore: "Headmaster Dumbledore's concerns are quite reasonable."

However, I can assure you that Harry's safety at this moment is being protected in secret by...someone you would never expect."

These words exploded in the room like a thunderclap.

Fudge's mouth dropped open, Crouch's pupils contracted sharply, and even the usually composed editor-in-chief, Gu Fei, involuntarily leaned forward.

Everyone realized that tonight's whole show was orchestrated by Lynch from beginning to end.

Crouch gave Lynch a deep look, a complex light flashing in his shrewd gray eyes. He said nothing more, turning all his attention to the curtain, wanting to see what this "hanger" was planning.

Dumbledore stared at Lynch for a long time, the sharpness in his blue eyes gradually turning into deep thought.

He slowly sat back down, crossed his hands on his knees, and looked back at the curtain.

The wise old man had realized that this was Lynch's answer to the Black problem.

All he needs to do is wait patiently and see what kind of answer this questionnaire will give.

When that fat, grey-black rat darted out of Harry's pocket.

"What's that?" Fudge squinted. "Potter with his pet?"

But as the rat began to transform in mid-air, everyone held their breath and watched the gradually emerging human figure. A short, sparsely-haired man appeared in the frame, wearing ill-fitting, tattered clothes.

The man knocked Sirius down in an instant.

"Who is this?!" the Director of the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters exclaimed in surprise.

Editor-in-Chief Gu Fei frowned, his professional instincts immediately triggering a search of his memory: "This face... seems somewhat familiar..."

Suddenly, Scrimgeour gasped: "Merlin... impossible..."

""

Chief Crouch's face turned deathly pale in an instant, and his voice trembled with uncharacteristic shock: "This...this is impossible...Peter Pettigrew!?"