The Daily Prophet

Loren chewed the lamb chop in his mouth with loud crunches, his eyes fixed on Hermione.

Hermione, sitting opposite him, wore an uncontrollable smile as she happily ate and hummed scattered bits of melody.

From time to time, Hermione glanced at Loren and muttered strange things like "22 to 0."

Loren comforted himself. He had become familiar with the Shield Charm, while Hermione had gained a tiny bit of joy. A win-win!

The sound of Owl wings came from the skylight. Hogwarts received more letters on weekends.

The little Hānhan, the Spectacled Owl, had also brought Loren a reply from Grandpa Bates.

Loren had sent his letter to Grandpa Bates on the Saturday of the second week of term. Now it was already the Saturday of the third week. An owl should not have needed a whole week for a round trip. Perhaps Grandpa Bates had delayed in writing back, but Loren did not pay it much mind.

He set Hānhan beside him, gave it some cheese and chunks of bread, then began reading the letter.

In the letter, Bates said he was not worried about Loren one bit. The brat had only remembered to write to the old man after half a month of school, and his wording had been extremely impolite. These matters would be slowly settled once Loren returned for the holidays.

As for Loren's mention of returning to the city, Bates did not reply directly. He only said that he would visit some old places from years ago and told Loren not to meddle.

Throughout the entire letter, Bates did not ask about the magic school or what amazing skills Loren had learned. Only at the end did he mention that the two sheep at home had given birth, and that when Loren returned, they would be just right for Roast Lamb.

After reading it, Loren neatly folded the letter and put it into his pocket, warmth filling his heart.

Hmph, what did he mean, just right for Roast Lamb? He just missed him. Old people were like that—too stubborn to admit it.

Tomorrow was the Full Moon Night. He wondered how the Old Man was doing and whether he still had to go into the mountains.

Loren did not write back right away. He planned to wait until he got the Wolfsbane Potion and have Hānhan bring it back with the letter.

The Werewolf matter was more or less settled. Even Hānhan, pecking away beside him, seemed cuter now. Loren reached out and stroked the Spectacled Owl's feathers.

Hermione was also watching the Owl. She had been there when he bought it. "It looks like it's grown a little."

Loren nodded and stuffed a piece of pudding into his mouth. "You could just say it's gotten a lot fatter."

"Hoot!" The little Spectacled Owl, focused on its cheese, looked up. That was very rude!

"So what did you name it?" Hermione asked curiously.

Loren's hand froze halfway to his mouth. A name? He seemed never to have thought about it. He had always just called it Hānhan, Hānhan.

He tested the name aloud. "Hānhan?"

The little Spectacled Owl immediately responded. "Hoot!"

Hermione repeated it twice, unable to understand what it meant. She assumed it was simply a reduplicated name, something like Meow-Meow or Pipi.

"I'd like to borrow Hānhan to write a letter to my parents."

Hermione had not written home since school began. It was her first time leaving her parents to attend school. Even though the wonders of magic could ease the loneliness of being alone, her longing for her parents only grew stronger with time.

It was difficult for her to describe the magical principles she had learned to her parents. The pitch of a spell could affect its result, much like how a middle school student would not explain word grammar or Newton's First Law during a call home.

The little girl's extracurricular life was equally monotonous, and she was not especially close to her Roommate. For a long time, Loren had been her only friend. It was only after sneaking out at night that she became familiar with Harry and the other two.

Seeing Loren write to his family, Hermione finally made up her mind to write to her parents. She would tell them that the headmaster was a white-bearded Old Man and talk about Professor McGonagall, her favorite professor.

Loren agreed. "Of course..."

"Merlin's beard!"

Not far away, Seamus leaned close to Ron and Harry, looking at the Daily Prophet in their hands as he cried out in surprise.

The Daily Prophet reported on the trial of Peter Pettigrew and released some information from the courtroom.

Peter Pettigrew had joined the Dark Lord in 1981 and betrayed the Potter couple, leading to their deaths. The Dark Lord had also died as a result of that incident.

While being pursued by Sirius Black, Peter had caused an explosion that destroyed an entire street and killed twelve Muggles. He had left behind a finger to fake his death. After framing Sirius Black, he had used his illegal Animagus form to hide in the Weasley family's home for ten years. He was suspected to have been exposed by Dumbledore, captured, and handed over to the Ministry of Magic.

The Daily Prophet had blurred the details of the capture. They did not know the truth either and could only make guesses.

At the trial, Peter Pettigrew had nothing to say. But his mother claimed that Peter Pettigrew's actions had led to the Dark Lord's downfall, making him a hero who should not be put on trial.

The court rejected the unreasonable old woman's argument and sentenced Wormtail to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban.

After laying out the details of the case, the report lavishly praised Minister for Magic Fudge's wise leadership for correcting the wrongful conviction left behind by his predecessor. Hogwarts and Dumbledore's contributions were mentioned only in a tiny paragraph.

Having learned the whole story, Seamus could barely contain his excitement and repeatedly exclaimed, "Merlin's beard!"

One of my Roommates is The Chosen One, who killed the Dark Lord and saved the wizarding world.

Another Roommate's family kept a Death Eater as a pet for ten years.

And another Roommate exposed a Death Eater who had been hiding for ten years just days after school began, clearing a false charge.

Even Neville, the most inconspicuous one, was descended from heroes—an Auror family.

As Seamus sighed, he suddenly realized that he seemed to be the only one who was nothing special. Furrowing his brow, he sank into a strange sense of inferiority.

Harry was very happy. The accomplice who had caused his parents' deaths had been punished, and he had gained a Godfather as well.

Harry still had many questions about what had happened back then. His scar, the inexplicable title of The Chosen One—his mind was always full of doubts.

Ron looked at the report and thought of Scabbers again. More than fear, he felt disgust.

That day, his pet had transformed before his very eyes into a short, fat, revolting middle-aged man. It had been the greatest shock of Ron's life.

Memories of eating and sleeping alongside his cute pet, of their loving bond, flashed madly through his mind. Ron clutched his head. "No, no, no."

The more he tried to avoid those memories, the clearer they became. Ron could not eat anymore. Giving up resistance, he slumped lifelessly on his stool.

The older students crowded around Percy and the Twins, asking question after question. Had the three of them been cursed? Had they ever discovered someone sneaking into their room at night to steal food?

Percy looked awful as well and said nothing. Scabbers had been his pet for a time, and his memories were also filled with plenty of unclean scenes.

George and Fred picked out a few questions to answer.

"Yes, when we were six, Peter Pettigrew made us terribly ill."

"We were bedridden for an entire week."

When they were six, they had hidden Scabbers in the soup Molly had made and been beaten so badly that they could not get out of bed for a week.

"We also noticed that Wormtail was acting strangely and wanted to investigate him."

"Percy stopped us."

The two had wanted to use Scabbers as an experimental subject for some magical experiments involving their props.