A Certain Magical Hogwarts
Chapter 492

Master, Your Most Faithful Servant Has Come!

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Peter used his left hand, missing three fingers, to gently push open the slightly ajar wooden door.

All the wizards in the inn stopped what they were doing and looked at this guy who was braving the heavy rain to venture deeper into the forest.

Peter, who is always adept at playing the fool, reverts to his cowardly demeanor. Of course, this is just his natural performance, requiring absolutely no acting skills.

He whispered, "What heavy rain... I encountered Magical Creatures on my way... I almost didn't make it back..."

That's true; Peter encountered a snake Runespoor.

The Runespoor, originating from the small Africa country of Burkina Faso, is a Fantastic Beasts with three heads. However, due to the theft and sale of its eggs, it has now appeared in various parts of the world.

That snake was incredibly ferocious; Peter almost became its dessert.

It seems that Albania's forests are even more dangerous than the Forbidden Forest.

"It's good to see you back." Old Tom warmly welcomed Peter in.

The roads were closed due to recent heavy rains, so there weren't many customers. This wizard, however, was very generous, paying twenty Galleon in one go.

What Tom didn't know was that it was all of Peter's possessions.

To put it simply, during his years as a rat, he first stole Arthur's savings, and later he stole from Percy.

But he couldn't steal it more than a few times. Percy was too cautious and had a good memory.

With so little Knut, he practically wanted to make one do the work of two. He kept losing them, so he became suspicious and sewed an inner pocket onto his underwear.

Hide the money inside.

It's a bit too much, and there's some skin smoothing... but it's safe!

Later, it became Ron's pet and started stealing his allowance.

Don't let Ron's usual act of pretending to be poor fool you; he even gives quill pens as Christmas gifts—the cheapest things available.

But he actually has a lot of savings on the side. Especially in recent years, the twins have been sending some Galleon home every month.

Ron's allowance naturally increased as well.

He's probably saving up to buy something expensive at the Quidditch World Cup.

Unfortunately, Peter took them all.

He also borrowed thirty Galleon from Harry and his three roommates in Ron's name.

The twins are wealthy, but they won't lend money without a legitimate reason.

Stark and Granger were richer, Peter didn't dare lend them any.

I'm trying to avoid these two little devils, how could I dare to approach them and ask for money?

Maybe after borrowing it a few times, people will notice something is wrong.

Ron's social circle was just as narrow as Harry's; he could only borrow a few roommates, with Harry and Neville being the most frequent among them.

So when Ron returned to school, he suddenly discovered that his savings of several years were gone and he was in debt!

Sleeping in Ron's bed, using his own savings, and having deep conversations with his best friend Harry every day until the wee hours of the morning.

Tsk tsk... Peter can't help but swoon just thinking about it!

He's an old minotaur!

The witch stared at the male witch who entered, clearly taken aback.

In recent years, she has experienced some memory problems.

William examined her, and based on her symptoms, it was either that she had suffered severe brain damage, or that someone had used a powerful Memory Charm on her.

However, she remembers her memories from very early times very Chuchu.

For example, Pettigrew Peter.

Bertha was naturally interested in what had happened recently.

William exchanged information with her, telling her that Peter still alive.

The person in front of me... is clearly Peter!

The witch was excited; she was very interested in this kind of gossip. She was eager to know why Peter was here.

Peter, hiding under his hood, also felt the witch's gaze. He felt the person looked familiar, but couldn't remember who she was.

Could it be that the Auror have caught up with us?

Peter a little flustered. He asked Tom to bring him food upstairs and then hurriedly went to his room.

After he left, the witch asked in a low voice, "Who was that person? Why was he still wandering around outside so late?"

"Him? His name is Ron... I heard he's a Magical Creatures." Tom shrugged.

"It's said he's going to write a book called ' Fantastic Beasts in a Bowl '."

"Ron..." the witch squinted.

Is it fashionable to use a smaller phone size when going out these days?

"By the way, I still don't know your name, Miss..."

"Bertha, Bertha Jorkins!"

Are you here for adventure too?

"No," Bertha shook her head. "I'm here to visit relatives."

Her second cousin lives in Albania. She has already visited her, and then she is going to the south to visit an aunt.

She would have left already if the heavy rain hadn't blocked the roads.

Thank goodness for the rain!

Bertha thought to herself, otherwise she wouldn't have met Peter.

"By the way, boss, do you have any owls?" Bertha asked.

"Where to send it?" Old Tom asked cautiously.

Be careful!

Although he was far away in Albania, he was still well-informed and had heard about the tragic fate of his colleague at the Leaky Cauldron Tom.

He lent the owl to a wizard who said it was to be delivered to Newcastle. Tom thought it was in the United Kingdom, but it turned out to be flying to Newcastle, Australia!

The owl has been gone for a year and hasn't returned yet.

If Old Tom ever saw such a foolish wizard, he'd kill him.

"Send it to Venice... can you deliver it?"

"We need to cross the Adriatic Sea; owls won't do, we'll have to use seagulls," Old Tom replied.

Bertha nodded, quickly wrote a letter, had Tom send it away on a seagull, and then went back to her room.

Peter sat in an armchair, finished the food Tom had brought him, and then pondered for a while.

We've been searching for seven whole days, and still haven't found anything.

He now seriously doubts whether the news about the You-Know-Who in Albania was just something his boss Tom, made up.

Peter raised his hands. He was now a true six-fingered violin demon... with only six fingers on both hands combined.

William had cut off three of the hairs on his left hand, and the hair on his right hand was one he had broken himself years ago in an attempt to frame Sirius.

Ouch!

A persistent tearing sensation came from his left hand and lower body. The pain almost made him faint.

Peter shook his smock, and a group of rats fell out. Following his instructions, they continued their search for local rats in the forest.

Then he closed the heavy blinds and drew the curtains. Peter stoked the fire in the fireplace and blew out all the candles.

In the middle of the night,

Bertha cautiously opened the door and peered inside.

After waiting a moment, she quietly entered the room, looking around as if searching for something.

Crossing the room and onto the wooden bed, Bertha heard a squeaking, grinding sound, like a mouse gnawing on something.

She suddenly threw back the sheet, grabbed her wand, her pupils contracted, but she didn't see Peter.

The squeaking and grinding sounds stopped, and a mouse darted out from under the pillow and bit Bertha's finger hard.

Bertha winced in pain, and her wand fell to the ground.

The rat rapidly grew larger in mid-air, a flash of red light streaked past, and Bertha collapsed to the ground.

Peter, wand in hand, did not kill Bertha immediately. He had originally planned to hand the man named Theon over to the You-Know-Who. Now, however, he had a better idea.

Squeak squeak squeak.

A mouse crawled out from under the floor and followed Peter's hand to his ear.

A moment later, his eyes lit up – he had finally found it!

Peter transformed Bertha into a groundhog, put her in his pocket, Peter secretly left the room, disappearing into the darkness.

The heavy rain continued unabated, and the rustling of the forest at night enveloped him.

As he ventured deeper into the forest, guided by the mice, he headed toward a certain place.

After walking for about four or five hours, Peter arrived at a spring.

This is a natural, narrow pool, carved out of clay by water. It is about two meters deep and surrounded by moss and tall, honeycomb-like grass.

A small stream gurgled and gushed forth.

Peter had no time to catch his breath. In complete darkness, his wand lit up in his right hand, and he reached for a large oak tree that bent towards the water.

In the dim light, the oak tree appeared gray in outline, while its leaves shimmered with a faint golden hue.

A huge hollow was carved out of the middle of the tree trunk.

"Master!" Peter called out, "Are you there? Your most faithful servant has come looking for you."

A moment later, a hoarse voice suddenly rang out.

"I'm so glad to hear the voices of the Death Eaters again! It's only been thirteen years since we last met!"

In the blink of an eye, not too long, is it, Wormtail?

The sound seemed to come from near and far, with an indescribable haziness, like something elusive drifting by.

"So, Peter... did Dumbledore send you to deliver a message to me?"

His voice turned cold.

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