"
You said Scabbers is Peter Pettigrew?!" Harry gasped, eyes wide with shock.
Ron's pet mouse—of course he knew it well. That little rat had been with Ron everywhere, even sleeping beside him.
But now… Blake claimed that rat was Peter Pettigrew?
Harry shuddered, remembering how Ron sometimes hugged Scabbers in his sleep. Didn't that mean Ron had been cuddling a fully grown man disguised as a rat? The thought sent a chill down Harry's spine, the recent sadness over his parents' memory pushed back by horror.
"Where is Scabbers now?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
"Scabbers… he's Ron's pet," Harry stammered. "Yesterday—"
Harry shot a glance at Blake, recalling the strange scene he'd witnessed yesterday: Blake's operation on the mouse.
He remembered watching, his anger towards the rat that had betrayed his parents overwhelming any sympathy.
When he thought about what had happened, all he could feel now was grim satisfaction.
"Well done," Harry thought to himself.
"Ron should still be in the dormitory," Harry added quickly. "Scabbers—Peter Pettigrew—should be there too!"
Dumbledore's eyes sharpened. He turned toward Blake, understanding that in this moment, Blake's teleportation magic could save precious time.
Blake nodded. He raised his hand, drew a glowing circle in the air—
"Stab it!"
A shimmering dimensional gate opened before them.
They stepped through—and found themselves in Harry's dormitory in Gryffindor Tower.
Ron was there, bent under the bed, muttering to himself and rummaging for something.
"Ron!" Harry shouted, rushing in.
"Ah?"
Bump!
"Ouch!"
Startled, Ron lifted his head—and slammed it hard against the bed frame. He scrambled upright, rubbing his forehead, tears in his eyes. He opened his mouth to complain—then froze.
The headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, stood there, as did Professor Lupin. Even Blake was there, glancing around the Gryffindor dormitory curiously.
Blake's eyes roamed over the cramped space. Compared to the Hufflepuff dorms, this room felt plain and cramped.
No cakes on the table, no small biscuits by the bed…
He almost muttered aloud: "Is this even a dormitory?"
Meanwhile, Dumbledore's voice cut through. "Ron, where is Scabbers?"
Ron's face fell. "I… I can't find him! It must be Hermione's cat!"
His voice rose with frustration. "This morning, I saw Crookshanks sneaking outside the dormitory… then Scabbers was gone! Crookshanks must have eaten him!"
"Hmmm…" Dumbledore's brow furrowed.
Could an Animagus really let himself be eaten alive? Impossible.
"Look!" Ron pointed miserably. "This is where Scabbers slept… there's only this bit of blood left…"
Blake leaned closer. Indeed, a few dried spots of blood stained the little blanket at the head of Ron's bed.
"Professor," Blake said calmly, "he ran away. The blood is just to fool us. Pretend he got eaten, then escape unnoticed."
Blake knew Crookshanks wasn't fooled by appearances. Crookshanks had kneazle blood, giving him the ability to sense people's true nature. He'd never eat Pettigrew.
It surprised Blake that Peter managed to slip away, even under so many restrictions… but Blake had a backup plan.
Ron was bewildered. "What are you talking about? Why do you all care about my rat?"
Dumbledore looked at Harry. Harry nodded and stepped forward.
"Ron," Harry said gently, "we need to talk. Come here…"
They stepped aside. Ron listened, and as Harry spoke, Ron's face changed—turning pale, horrified, then twisted with disgust.
Meanwhile, Lupin turned to Dumbledore. "What should we do now?"
"We can't let Peter escape," Dumbledore said firmly. "I'll ask the ghosts and portraits to keep watch."
It was the best option left. But as they all knew, Hogwarts had hundreds of mice running through its walls. Even if the ghosts saw one, how would they know which was Peter?
Peter was clever, and the school too large.
Dumbledore's gaze shifted to Blake, who stood silently.
"Blake, do you… have any other way?" Dumbledore asked, hope mixed with concern.
Blake shook his head. "Not now," he answered simply.
Dumbledore sighed. Even he sometimes forgot Blake was still a boy, not omnipotent.
"We'll go to my office," Dumbledore said. "Then we'll have Dean Bohan check you, Blake. Summoning those spirits… you must've paid a price. We can't ignore your health."
Blake smiled faintly. "Alright, Professor."
In truth, Blake had plenty of ways to find Peter.
He could use his True Eyes, Haki, or even the Marauder's Map the Weasley twins kept. But he chose to wait.
After all, everyone's treasure chests had been collected by him today. Better to wait until they refreshed, then strike.
Besides, he had powerful seals taught by Grindelwald, ready to trap Peter when the time came.
Across the room, Ron's voice cracked. "Harry… tell me you're joking…"
Harry stayed silent.
Ron shook his head, eyes wild. "No… no way…"
All those years, living side by side, sharing food, secrets… sometimes even whispering thoughts in the dark. His one friend who was always there…
And now Harry told him Scabbers was really a grown man who betrayed Harry's parents—and slept in his bed.
Ron's face twisted further. "No…" he whispered, almost choking.
Harry's heart ached for his friend, but his anger at Peter burned hotter.
Nearby, Dumbledore spoke softly to Lupin. "We need to find Peter quickly. And protect Sirius. If the Dementors catch him first…"
Lupin nodded grimly. "They'd suck out his soul without question."
Dumbledore turned to leave, but paused. "Blake, after Bohan checks you, rest. We may still need your help."
Blake smiled faintly. "Of course, Professor."
Outside the dormitory, Harry's mind whirled.
All those times Scabbers bit people or disappeared—it wasn't just a naughty pet.
It was a traitor hiding in plain sight.
And now he'd run again.
In the principal's office, Dumbledore sent messages across the castle: portraits and ghosts were alerted. The hunt for Peter Pettigrew had begun.
"Even if he hides," Dumbledore said, "he can't run forever."
Blake said nothing, his mind already working on the next step.
He thought back to the Marauder's Map: a piece of parchment that revealed every person in Hogwarts—including Animagi.
It wouldn't fail to show Peter Pettigrew.
Later, as they prepared to leave, Ron finally spoke, voice low and broken.
"All those years… I talked to him, fed him… I even hugged him…"
His eyes glistened with tears and disgust.
=============
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