There was a piano at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, but no one usually played it. Hermione occasionally did, teaching James the piano while she was at it.
But today, the little one's attention had been drawn away by the small animal Uncle Ron had brought back. It was a Golden Snidget, not long hatched from its egg and still unable to fly. When Ron found it, it had been at death's door, nearly eaten by a crow.
After dinner, Ginny cleared the table while Harry and Ron returned to the study. They shut the door and talked, each pouring himself a glass of Firewhisky.
"I looked over every zombie on Zombie Path and visited every wizard who had ever taken part in the terror tour, but I never found any trace of Peter Pettigrew," Ron said after taking a sip of whisky. "Later, I found a lead. Have you heard of Death Swamp?"
"Where did you find that lead?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"You know, coincidence." Ron's expression was strange. "Sometimes clues just pop up on their own."
"All right. Then what?"
"I met a female ghost there. She told me that someone had once lived in a castle outside the swamp. It was a defensive fortification built by a Muggle four hundred years ago, but it was completely unnecessary, because it wasn't on any major route and had no strategic value. Other than having an excellent location—easy to defend and hard to attack. I went inside and searched it."
Ron placed a thick stack of photographs on the table.
"Living people can't survive in there, but I heard Peter Pettigrew became a zombie. He doesn't need to eat or sleep, right?"
Harry looked through the photographs. It truly was no place for people to live. It was dark, damp, and