Dumbledore stood by the bed, the moonlight streaming in through the window, casting a soft silver glow on his silvery-white beard.
Clues were rapidly forming and combining in his mind.
A mouse that lived a very long time, with a lifespan far exceeding that of ordinary mice, happened to have a broken toe.
A name that appears as a real name on the Marauder's Map.
Peter Pettigrew.
The boy who was blown up by Sirius Black on Muggle street twelve years ago was left with only one finger.
The hero who was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class...
He's not dead!
He lived in the Weasley family for twelve years in the form of a mouse, passing from Percy to Ron, and remained at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore slowly sat down beside Ron's bed, his movements slow, as if something was pressing down on his shoulders.
Seeing his expression, Ron shrank back uncomfortably. "Headmaster... what's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Dumbledore said, but his voice lacked its usual gentleness.
His gaze fell on the bedside table, where the book with the dark purple cover sat, the silhouette of a black dog on the cover gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
Dumbledore looked at the book, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.
Peter ran away.
Why did he run?
Even if Black escapes from Azkaban, Hogwarts will still be the safest place.
Here you'll find Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix, dozens of experienced professors, and the most robust defense system in the entire Wizarding World.
A mouse is safer here than anywhere else.
But now he's run away.
Dumbledore lowered his eyes, his gaze returning to the scattered fur along the edge of the bed.
Cat and mouse fur were mixed together and spread out beside the bed, as if someone had carefully arranged it.
His gaze swept over the fur, his mind racing with various possibilities.
What is Peter afraid of?
He's afraid his identity will be exposed!
He must have read that book and knows about the Marauder's Map!
The book describes the Marauder's Map's function: if Dumbledore gets his hands on the map, Peter's real name will be displayed on it.
Peter knew this, so he ran away.
But this raises another problem.
Dumbledore slowly stood up and stood beside Ron's bed, gazing out the window at the moonlit grounds.
Why is he afraid of his identity being exposed?
He was clearly the hero back then; he stopped Black and he protected Harry Potter.
If Peter to step forward and reveal his identity, the entire Wizarding World would rediscover him, and people would respect and admire him.
He will become a living legend.
But he didn't.
He hid for twelve years, inside the body of a rat, in the tower of Hogwarts.
If he's a hero, why would he hide?
Unless he's not a hero at all.
Dumbledore's blue eyes appeared extremely deep in the moonlight.
Could there be more to the story than meets the eye...?
The room was quiet. Ron sat on the bed, looking at Dumbledore's silent expression, and didn't dare to say anything more.
The moonlight slanted in through the window, illuminating the cat and mouse fur along the edge of the bed, which was scattered in small clumps on the sheets.
Dumbledore finally came to his senses, and the next moment Peter if Peter had wanted to run there, he might have just reached the outside of the castle.
He immediately opened the window and flew out—if Voldemort could develop Flight Spell, so could he.
Dumbledore hovered in mid-air, his sharp eyes scanning everything on the ground, trying to find anything suspicious.
Unfortunately, there don't seem to be any suspicious signs.
Peter was crouching in the grass at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He moved his hind legs, shifting himself deeper into the grass, burying his nose in the soil, and pressing his ears flat against his head.
Dumbledore hovered in mid-air, remained silent for a few seconds, then raised his wand, the tip pointing at his own throat.
" Peter Pettigrew."
His voice was amplified by Sonorus, echoing across the edge of the Forbidden Forest like a muffled thunder rumbling down from the depths of the clouds. Even the birds roosting deep within the forest were startled and took flight.
I knew you were here.
The gray mouse huddled in the grass stiffened for a moment, but only for a second, before continuing to paw at the soil with its front paws.
I promise I won't let Black find you.
Dumbledore's voice was steady and slow, each word clearly carried on the night breeze.
"Show yourself now, and I guarantee you can leave Hogwarts safely."
"You can turn back into human form and live a normal life. I won't let anyone hurt you."
I can keep you safe.
His voice echoed through the woods, slowly disappearing into the shadows of the trees.
You don't need to be afraid anymore.
Dumbledore paused after saying that.
The night wind blew from the Black Lake, rustling the grass at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, turning the leaves in the treetops, and stirring up the darkness of the entire forest.
But the gray mouse in the grass didn't react at all.
It was still digging in the dirt, sniffing the ground, and scratching its ears with its hind legs.
Its movements were natural and casual, like an ordinary wild mouse that didn't care at all what someone was shouting in the sky.
Peter's heart nearly stopped for a second.
He heard every word Dumbledore said.
He heard "safety," he heard " Black won't find you," he heard "don't be afraid anymore."
For a fleeting moment, he almost raised his head, almost crawled out of the grass, and reached out to the figure suspended in mid-air.
But he held back.
Because he knew Dumbledore too well.
That old man is definitely lying.
If Dumbledore takes him back, what will happen next?
Everyone will know that Peter Pettigrew is still alive, and they will all ask him how he survived and why he didn't dare to show himself for twelve years.
Everyone will ask, if he's not dead, why doesn't he show himself?
Peter couldn't answer any of these questions.
Or rather, he couldn't give any of the answers he could.
He pressed his face to the soil, stretching every hair taut, letting the mouse's body continue doing what it was supposed to do.
He even crawled out from under one rock and under another, as if he had found something interesting in the grass.
Dumbledore looked at the motionless ground and spoke again.
"If you don't move now, I'm going to start using a deeper level of search magic."
The words sank into the night wind, leaving only the rustling of the wind through the grass at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Dumbledore hovered in the air, wand in hand, his silver beard fluttering slightly in the wind. His blue eyes behind his Half-moon Spectacles stared intently at everything on the ground below.
However, there was no movement from below.