Scabbers Is Not Peter!

Gryffindor public restrooms

The water is flowing gurglingly!

After washing for ten minutes, Harry finally got rid of the stench completely.

Harry felt like he was having a run of bad luck lately.

Quidditch Match ends in an encounter with Dementor; a Christmas present, Firebolt, is confiscated by Professor McGonagall; and while catching up on sleep in the dorm, one is hit by Peeves's Dungbomb.

What terrible luck!

The one truly stuck with misfortune isn't Ron, it's me, isn't it?!

"Mmm... Ahh!"

Harry practiced his voice professionally, feeling that his throat was open, and then listened to the sounds from the lounge.

Nobody's here!

There's definitely no one here. The students have all gone home, and Professor McGonagall won't be coming. Ron left his dorm early this morning for the library and won't be back anytime soon.

Harry gripped the showerhead in his left hand and the soap in his right, and began to secretly let loose, trying his best to scream:

"Ah ha! I'll love you even if it kills me!"

"Kissing non-stop for three days and three nights in the middle of the night!"

Ahh~

After belting out his dolphin-like high notes, Harry, feeling quite pleased with himself, practiced how to confess his feelings to the crushed soap.

"Qiu, there's something I've always wanted to tell you... No, my tone isn't strong enough..."

Autumn, stay with me, this is my lifelong request!

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Harry was so startled that his little hand trembled, and the soap slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.

"Ron, is that you? Where have you been? You weren't here all morning. Do you want to take a shower? Come on, let's go together!"

Harry blurted out something without thinking, not even knowing what he was saying, and tried to cover up his embarrassment.

No one knows he likes Qiu yet, so we can't let it get out.

"It's me! Potter!"

Bang!

The sound of slipping rang out, followed by a heavy thud on the floor.

He stood up, rubbing himself.

Stepping on the soap,

I slipped again.

He did a huge split!

After several impacts, Professor McGonagall stood at the bathroom door, frowning as she asked, "Potter, are you alright?"

"No... it's nothing... it's just that the floor is a little slippery."

Five minutes later, Harry, bruised and battered from the fall, finally got dressed and opened the bathroom door.

"Professor McGonagall, what brings you here? Is there something you need?" Harry asked awkwardly.

Professor McGonagall crossed her thin arms over her chest, her gaze fixed on Harry through her square spectacles.

Where is Mr. Weasley? I need to speak with him.

"Oh, Ron." Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they weren't looking for him.

He went to the library to study early this morning.

Professor McGonagall nodded, then said sternly, "Harry, even if the common room is empty, you still need to keep things under control."

Your singing is off-key; it's practically singing Slytherin House!"

"..."

"Also, confessing your feelings is a skill, I think..." Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows, "Your lines just now were really lame."

No girl will talk to you!

Harry's face turned bright red.

That's all.

I am socially dead!

He had only one thing on his mind right now: which building at Hogwarts was the tallest, so that jumping from there would be a more... thorough way to die.

Professor McGonagall turned and walked towards the library.

Harry paused for a few seconds, then followed, attempting to throw caution to the wind and ask Professor McGonagall for some... unconventional ways of confessing his feelings.

"Professor, how's the inspection of the Firebolt going?" Harry didn't ask directly, but instead asked indirectly.

"It's proceeding in an orderly manner, don't rush," Professor McGonagall said with a serious expression.

"By the way, has anything unusual happened in your dorm lately?"

"Nothing unusual, right?" Harry thought for two seconds and shook his head.

The only unusual thing is that his sleep quality is better.

In the past, late at night:

Ron's snoring was incessant, the grinding of his Scabbers kept a rhythm; Neville's sleep talking added to the atmosphere, and Trevor's croaking was loud and clear.

Since the holidays started, Neville brought Trevor home, and Ron suddenly stopped snoring, but picked up the habit of grinding his Scabbers.

He was a little unaccustomed to the sudden quiet in the dormitory.

"Yes, be careful. Black might sneak into the school again," Professor McGonagall advised.

Before they even reached the library, the two ran into Ron was returning.

"Mr. Weasley, where have you been?" Professor McGonagall squinted at Ron.

"I did my homework at the library, and then I went to visit Hagrid, but he wasn't home." Ron looked confused.

"What happened? Has Black come again?"

"No," Professor McGonagall explained. "Your parents are here to take you to Romania to visit your second brother, Charlie."

"Come with me to the Headmaster's Office now, let's go."

"Charlie... what happened to him?" Ron asked anxiously.

"It's nothing. He just discovered the remains of a pterosaur, an ancient Fantastic Beasts, and wanted you to take a look."

Professor McGonagall rarely lies, but at this moment it seemed as if she possessed an innate talent for it, speaking fluently and skillfully.

"By the way, you might be staying for a vacation. Is there anything you want to take with you?" McGonagall casually mentioned.

"You don't need to take the clothes, but do you need to bring any pets like owls?"

"I don't... I don't have an owl." Ron patted his shirt pocket and said, "I only have a Scabbers mouse, and it's stuck to me."

Professor McGonagall nodded, glancing discreetly at the bulging pocket.

"What happened to your face?" Ron whispered to Harry, deliberately falling behind.

"Nothing much, I just had a big battle with Peeves," Harry said awkwardly, trying to cover it up. "Have you finished your homework?"

"No, absolutely not. I know each word individually, but when they're put together, I have no idea what they mean."

Ron gave off a look of utter disappointment.

"Waiting for Hermione to come back and copy her?" Harry whispered.

"Forget it, she won't let us copy. Buying homework is more reliable," Ron whispered.

Akali's Mystery Shop's answer key business has been completely transferred to Lee. Now, he's the one who's getting all the answers for Hogwarts.

Harry and Ron are already used to buying it.

"You went to Hagrid's?" Harry asked curiously.

Ron hadn't been to Hagrid's place in a long time because he had seen the Dahei and considered it an ominous sign.

"Yeah, I suddenly felt like visiting him, but he wasn't home. I found a groundhog in his pumpkin patch." Ron said, beaming.

Groundhog?

"Yes, I'm going to adopt," Ron said.

"Scabbers is getting old and dying, and I can't afford an owl, so a groundhog as a pet would be nice."

"I can give you an owl, brother." Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder.

"It's alright, I love mice the most." Ron smiled sincerely.

The three of them quickly arrived at the Headmaster's Office.

The Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were not in the office; only Dumbledore, Lupin, and William reflected in the Two-Way Mirror were present.

"Where are my mom and dad?" Ron looked around. "Weren't we supposed to be going to Romania?"

Professor McGonagall closed the wooden door, her expression serious. "We'll talk about that later. Now, Mr. Weasley, where's your Scabbers?"

Can I take a look at it?

Everyone stared at Ron, who took two steps back in fear.

Ron hesitated, then reached into his pocket. Scabbers appeared, shaking violently.

Ron had to grab the long, bald tail to prevent it from escaping.

Everyone picked up their wands, including Dumbledore.

"What's wrong?" Ron was startled, gripping Scabbers closer to him, looking terrified.

Did Scabbers chew up something important?

"It might be an Animagus," Lupin said, "Whose name Peter Pettigrew."

Harry and Ron looked at each other in bewilderment.

Harry said with difficulty, "Peter Pettigrew is dead! He was killed by Black twelve years ago!"

"That's right." Ron seemed terrified; his face was as pale as Lupin's.

He clenched his fists, and the Scabbers on his hand screamed in pain like Pigwidgeon, struggling to escape.

"This mouse has lived in your house for twelve years, hasn't it?" Lupin said. "Didn't you ever wonder how it could live so long?"

"We... we've been taking good care of it!" Ron argued.

"But it doesn't look too good right now, does it?" Lupin said. "I guess it's been losing weight ever since it heard Black escaped..."

"It was scared by that mad cat from Crookshanks!" Ron said angrily.

Hermione in the mirror snorted.

She said Scabbers was acting strangely. Otherwise, why would Crookshanks attack only Scabbers and not others?

"My child, we will prove whether this mouse is Peter. Just for a second, and we will not harm it," said Dumbledore.

Ron put Scabbers on the ground, and it scurried away.

Professor McGonagall and Lupin simultaneously raised their wands, which emitted a blue-white light.

The Scabbers floated up and hovered in mid-air.

Its small black body writhed wildly.

Then...

That's all.

The Scabbers remained unchanged.

It was still that dying black rat.

It's a real mouse.

Not at all...

Animagus!

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