In the middle of the secret passage, a trembling, naked mouse cowered among scattered food crumbs.
Peter Pettigrew—now living as Scabbers—was panicking. Moments ago, he'd been devouring the hard-won scraps like a starving animal. But suddenly, a door made of bright sparks appeared right in front of him!
And stepping through that door was the very boy who had caused Peter the most pain and fear: Blake.
Peter shrank back, hoping desperately that this little devil was merely passing by and wouldn't notice him.
But that fragile hope was shattered by a sharp, curious voice.
"This is… that Weasley's pet rat?~" Cassandra asked, surprise in her tone.
Yesterday, Blake had done a bit of "minor surgery" on Scabbers aboard the train. Cassandra still remembered this disgusting creature quite vividly.
"Mm… yes, it's Ronald's pet rat, Scabbers," Blake replied calmly, squatting down in front of the trembling rat with a faint smile.
Under Blake's gaze—sharp as a knife—Peter felt a chill run down his spine, like cold light dancing on his back.
Yet Peter didn't lose hope completely. After all, Blake had only identified him as Scabbers. At worst, he might be handed back to that foolish red-haired boy. Sirius Black probably hadn't even entered Hogwarts yet; Peter still had a chance to escape again.
So, once more, Peter threw himself into his well-practiced role: the harmless pet rat he'd pretended to be for over a decade.
"Blake, you said you wanted to show me something," Cassandra said, wrinkling her nose. "But surely you didn't mean this mouse?"
"Yes, I did." Blake's voice was calm, but this time he said him, no longer calling Scabbers it.
Cassandra blinked in surprise. Peter's heart leapt in panic—but he quickly tried to calm himself.
It must be a slip of the tongue… yes, surely that's all…
"Him? Why call it him? Is there something special about this rat?" Cassandra asked.
"Of course… very special," Blake said, his eyes fixed on the cowering mouse.
Then Blake leaned in slightly, his tone oddly friendly. "Hello, my name is… Blake."
"Squeak…" Scabbers squealed, trembling even harder.
The sudden mention of Blake's name—similar to the Black family name—made Peter shudder in fear.
"Don't worry, don't be nervous," Blake continued softly. "Although I am Blake… I'm not that Black."
Peter stared at him, terrified.
Those words pierced right through Peter's last hope, as if Blake had effortlessly exposed every secret he had tried so hard to bury.
Cassandra stood there, watching Blake apparently talking to a rat, and wondered for a moment if Blake's mind had been rattled by their earlier "activities" in the Room of Requirement.
But Blake turned to her and smiled. "Oh… Cassandra, let me introduce you properly."
"This mouse is truly extraordinary. He's Ronald's pet rat, Scabbers… and also…"
"Another recognized hero of the wizarding world—Mr. Peter Pettigrew, who received the First Class Order of Merlin over a decade ago!"
"Cassandra, I think you should feel honored to stand in front of such a legendary figure."
Faced with Blake's playful tone, Peter's mind spun with panic. All he could think was: How does he know?
"You mean… this mouse is actually… someone who died years ago?" Cassandra's voice shook as she spoke. Saying it out loud made her own words sound unbelievable, and she instinctively moved closer behind Blake.
Blake tapped her gently on the head. "You're a witch—afraid of ghosts? Hogwarts is full of them."
"But… he isn't dead, so he can't be a ghost."
"Then… then why is he…?" Cassandra's head was still foggy from earlier, her usual quick thinking slowed.
"Because he's an Animagus," Blake explained, drawing his wand.
"Revelio!" he cast firmly.
In an instant, Scabbers's furry body swelled grotesquely. Cassandra stepped back, half-afraid the rat might explode. But instead of bursting, the creature's form shifted and changed.
In moments, the spot where Scabbers had quivered now held a trembling, raggedly dressed, short, and pudgy man: Peter Pettigrew.
Cassandra covered her mouth, eyes wide with shock. "f…fe…fte…"
"Mm, classic Animagus transformation," Blake remarked coolly.
Peter stumbled, unused to standing upright after years living as a rat. His surroundings felt unfamiliar, even the view from human height.
"You… I couldn't transform back before. Was it you? Did you do something to me?" Peter croaked.
Though timid, Peter wasn't foolish. It was too much of a coincidence: Blake knowing his secret, the pain from yesterday, the strange emptiness he now felt…
Remembering that sharp sting of Blake's blade on the train and the emptiness below, Peter almost sobbed.
It must have been Blake! He planned this!
"That's right," Blake admitted without hesitation. "I placed some enchantments on you, and had Ronald give you a few little pills."
"Now, do you feel that your Animagus magic is failing? And your strength weakening?"
Peter collapsed to his knees before Blake.
"Please… please spare me! I can do anything for you!" he begged, desperation naked on his face.
Blake already knew his secret—yet hadn't exposed him immediately. Peter clung to that thin hope: perhaps Blake might keep him alive for some use.
But as Peter reached to clutch at Blake's robes, Blake flicked his hand. Peter flew back as if slammed by an invisible wall, crashed against stone, and slid down, stunned.
Blake ignored him and turned to Cassandra. "Now do you understand?"
Cassandra, now recovered from shock, nodded. "Yes… so the fugitive Sirius Black was actually innocent?"
She recalled the Daily Prophet articles: "The brave Peter Pettigrew, blown up while trying to stop Sirius, with only a finger left…"
Connecting the dots, Cassandra saw the truth.
"How did you know he was Peter Pettigrew?" she asked.
Blake smiled slightly. "It's a long story. I'll explain later."
"Oh… then why didn't you tell anyone on the train?" Cassandra pressed.
Blake spread his hands and lied smoothly: "I didn't know at the time. It wasn't until noon today that I learned Peter was an Animagus—and that his Animagus form was a rat, missing a right front paw."
"And coincidentally, yesterday I had examined this rat…"
Blake didn't mention the real reason: the system that revealed truths to him. Nor that he had planned to wait until professors' treasure chests refreshed before confronting Peter.
But Ariana's return today reminded him: he might time travel at any moment. Better to act now than risk leaving this danger behind.
Cassandra accepted his explanation without suspicion. "I see… then what do you plan to do now?"
"I'll need the professors here," Blake replied. "Help me open a few dimensional doors."
He'd already cleared Dumbledore and Lupin's treasure chests earlier. Better to call other professors now and clear theirs too.
Cassandra hesitated. "I… I can only open one door at a time."
"That's fine," Blake smiled. "Help me find Professor Snape first."
Cassandra nodded happily, knowing Blake included her not out of need, but so she could feel involved.
Blake opened several dimensional doors around the secret passage. Cassandra closed her eyes, focused on Snape's face, and a door of light formed.
The passage, already bright from Blake's Lumos, now glowed brilliantly.
Cassandra gathered her courage to speak, "Professor Snape, I…"
But the words froze on her lips.
She saw something she'd never imagined: Snape, face softened in a rare, gentle smile, feeding milk to a baby from a delicate bottle. Nearby sat an open tin of milk powder.
Snape looked up, met Cassandra's eyes—and his expression froze in horror.
My dignity… completely gone… Snape thought.
The other dimensional doors opened. Professor McGonagall stepped through, cautious. "What happened?"
Professor Flitwick, eyes bright with curiosity, dropped his books and hurried over. "Ah! This must be your new magic!"
Professor Sprout, shovel in one hand and wand in the other, rushed in. "Blake! Do you need help? Where's the enemy?"
Snape, bottle awkwardly hidden in his pocket, approached, face blank.
Lupin appeared too, surprised. "Blake, have you found something?"
Professor Babbling, still in her nightgown, entered, looking around curiously.
Last came Dumbledore himself, beard still dotted with cockroach clusters—clearly he'd come running.
"Blake, what have you discovered?" Dumbledore asked.
Blake calmly closed all the dimensional doors behind them.
"I've found Peter Pettigrew," he said.
"Peter Pettigrew? Impossible. Peter died over ten years ago," Professor McGonagall protested.
"Over there," Blake pointed.
The professors turned—and now saw what had been hidden by the dimensional doors: a short, fat man, ragged and trembling on the ground.
"What?! That really is Peter?!" McGonagall gasped.
Lupin's eyes filled with rage and sorrow. "Peter… you traitor!"
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