"You're all just talking—you have no idea… how terrifying he is!" Peter shrieked hysterically. "The moment you stand before him, you'd all end up like me!"
He seemed desperate to convince them, as if confessing Voldemort's terror could somehow excuse his own shame.
"You shameless coward!" Lupin roared back, fury in his eyes. "Timid and spineless—you've never even stood on the battlefield! You don't know… you don't know how many times we've faced the Dark Lord head-on!"
"You don't know how many have died bravely, fighting him face to face!"
"I've never seen a comrade so terrified that he surrendered right in the middle of battle!"
"You disgrace the memory of those who died for peace!"
If no one had held him back, Lupin would have beaten Peter to death on the spot.
Professor McGonagall stared at Peter, deep disappointment clouding her usually stern eyes. "Peter… I never imagined you'd become like this…" she whispered. "So… so disappointing."
Dumbledore let out a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Enough. Let's lock him up first. Severus…"
Snape stepped forward, his face contorted with disgust, and grabbed Peter by the collar. But Peter, limp with fear, was too heavy to lift properly.
Blake watched, then stepped up calmly, smiling coldly. Without warning, he stuffed a small pill into Peter's mouth.
Peter froze, then screamed in horror, "What—what did you give me?!"
"Poison," Blake said, his voice sharp and dark.
"No—no, you can't! If you kill me, no one will prove Sirius' innocence!" Peter cried, terror breaking his voice. Even prison in Azkaban was better than death.
But suddenly, Peter's expression changed. He felt something stir inside: his Animagus magic had returned. The weakness in his body vanished, and lost strength flooded back.
Without a moment's hesitation, Peter transformed into a rat. Snape barely had time to react before Peter's fat human shape vanished, leaving behind only a ragged coat in his hand.
"Squeak!" In a blink, Peter shot across the floor like an arrow.
But his hope died as quickly as it rose.
In midair, Peter's rat body froze, suspended and unmoving. Dumbledore stepped forward calmly, Elder Wand in hand, eyes unblinking.
Blake joined him, carrying a small, rune-carved cage. He smirked at the trembling rat.
"With all of us here—even if Voldemort himself walked in, he'd have to run. What made you think you could escape from us?"
Indeed, while Voldemort was terrifying in his prime, even he couldn't easily defeat Dumbledore—especially with several skilled professors by his side.
Blake opened the cage door and, with a small gesture, Peter floated helplessly inside. The door clicked shut, and the instant it locked, Peter could move again.
Peter scrabbled furiously at the bars, but the cage was forged from alchemical materials. Even if he tore himself apart, he couldn't break free.
Realizing resistance was pointless, Peter stopped. He didn't even dare transform back into a human.
Blake handed the cage to Snape, who took it with open disgust.
"Now it's much easier to carry," Blake remarked lightly.
Snape nodded stiffly. "Indeed… though it's a pity to use such fine materials for a filthy rat."
Blake chuckled. "Don't worry. Once we're done, I can melt it down and make you a new cauldron."
Snape's mouth twitched. "I will never accept a single cauldron from you," he said coldly.
Dumbledore silently added several protective and dark magic wards to the cage himself. Keeping Peter alive was now more important than ever.
With Peter secured, the room relaxed slightly, the heavy tension lifting.
Just as they were about to leave the secret passage, Dumbledore turned. "Blake, one more thing. How did you find Peter?"
The others, halfway through the exit, stopped too. Rats were everywhere at Hogwarts. How could Blake have found this one?
Blake replied lightly, "It was actually quite simple."
"I'd been hungry all day, and my mind wasn't clear. That's why it took me a moment to realize."
Dumbledore's face softened, stroking his beard. He understood perfectly why Blake hadn't eaten: Blake had been protesting.
"Ahem… that was my oversight," Dumbledore admitted, rummaging through his pocket. He produced a box of cockroach clusters. "Here—these are a special new flavor. The shopkeeper asked me to test them, but I've been saving them."
Blake wrinkled his nose and pushed them back. "No, thanks. If they're that precious, you should keep them. Besides… I don't like sweets that much."
Cockroach clusters? Just the thought of them crawling into someone's mouth made Blake shudder.
Blake continued, "The real reason is simple. As I said before, I never saw Sirius' Animagus form, so I couldn't find him."
"But I did see Peter's Animagus. I even… gave him a little 'physical check' on the train."
"So when I remembered, I simply opened the dimensional door right in front of him."
Dumbledore nodded, finally understanding. "Ah… that explains it."
Blake turned to go, eager to head to the Room of Requirement and spend some time with Cassandra. But Dumbledore stopped him once more.
"Blake—could you open a door for me? I must speak to Cornelius Fudge at the Ministry immediately."
Letters would take too long, and only a direct conversation could explain everything.
Blake obliged. A shimmering dimensional gate appeared, showing a London alley with an old red phone booth at the end.
"Thank you, Blake," Dumbledore said warmly, placing his hat on his head and striding toward the booth.
The door closed behind him.
Turning around, Blake found Professor Flitwick staring at him, eyes wide with scholarly wonder.
"Blake… what is that magic?" Flitwick breathed. "Merlin! In all my years, I've never seen anything like it!"
Blake explained patiently, "It isn't actually a spell, Professor. Strictly speaking, it's not even magic of this world."
Flitwick inhaled sharply. "So… magic from another world?"
"You could say that," Blake nodded. "To be honest, most of its power is borrowed…"
Sunlight streamed through the windows, warming Blake's face. He blinked, and suddenly… he was waking up.
Blinking again, he glanced at his pocket watch.
Eleven o'clock in the morning… Wait—eleven?!
"Oh no! I had morning class!" Blake bolted upright.
He grabbed his schedule and scanned it quickly.
"Potions? Ah, that's fine. No rush."
With a yawn, Blake dropped the schedule, flopped back into bed, and pulled the covers over his head.
After dealing with Peter Pettigrew, Professor Flitwick and Professor Babbling had caught Blake and questioned him about the supreme magics for hours.
By the time he'd finally escaped, his eyelids had been impossibly heavy. Even the idea of visiting Cassandra had been too much.
Though his body had been strengthened by magic, he was still human. Missing a whole night's sleep was exhausting.
But not long after lying down, Blake got up again.
Simple reason: he was hungry.
Having missed breakfast, he was starving.
He threw on his robes and hurried to the Great Hall, hoping to be first to the food.
But as he reached the first floor, he spotted Hermione hurrying through the corridor.
He called out—but she turned a corner quickly.
Blake chased after her, but when he turned the corner, there was no one there. No passage. Just empty space.
He paused, frowning. A thoughtful glint shone in his eyes.
"She just traveled through time, didn't she…"
"Meow~"
A cat's meow broke his thoughts. Looking down, Blake saw Crookshanks rubbing against his ankle.
Blake knelt, picking him up. "Good morning, Crookshanks."
"Meow~"
"What? Noon? No, no, it's still morning—it's not twelve yet!"
"Meow~"
"Alright, never mind the time. Did your master feed you?"
Blake sighed softly. "She takes so many classes—seventeen, eighteen in one day. I just hope she doesn't wear herself out…"
"Meow~"
"Don't worry," Blake said, smiling, "I'll help take care of her. But first… could you do me a favor? Help me find someone—and I'll get you some dried fish?"
"Meow!" Crookshanks agreed instantly.
"Deal."
Moments later, Crookshanks leaped from the window and disappeared.
Blake chuckled, shaking his head. Who says I have to find Sirius myself? Crookshanks and Sirius are—or soon will be—good friends…
After a quick meal, students began arriving in the Great Hall.
Hannah slid into the seat beside Blake. "How do you skip Snape's class every day and never get scolded?"
She'd just suffered Snape's wrath in potions and looked ready to cry.
Blake smiled, put down his book, and took a sip of honey water. "It's simple, Hannah."
Hannah leaned closer, eager to hear.
"Just be better at potions than Snape himself. Then he can't scold you."
"Huh?!" Hannah blinked, mouth open in shock.
"Really, it's not so hard," Blake teased, grinning. "Just be the best."
Hannah glared playfully, then stole a chicken leg from his plate.
"Hey! Did you wash your hands first?"
She ignored him, chewing furiously to hide her blush.
Just then, Cassandra joined them, handing Blake the Daily Prophet.
"Did you see today's paper?" she asked.
"Nope," Blake answered shamelessly. "I just woke up."
Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Look—the bounty on Sirius has gone up again."
Blake's smile faded slightly.
"You know what that means, right?" Cassandra pressed. "The Ministry still isn't convinced—even after what Dumbledore must have told them."
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