Chapter 95: Aftershocks Caused by Rats
In just a few seconds, Ron Weasley's worldview was shattered and his hair stood on end.
He saw things that were beyond his comprehension and unbelievable.
A few seconds ago, he was holding his injured leg with a grimace in his mouth, watching in shock as Hermione pulled a long, thin gold chain out of the collar of her robes and hung it around her neck, Draco's, and Harry's necks. She twisted the small, glittering hourglass at the end of the chain three times, and the three of them disappeared on the spot.
A few seconds later, he blinked two or three times and saw Harry, Hermione and Draco flying in from the window of the nearby school hospital on broomsticks and landing lightly on the floor in the middle of the ward - exactly where they had disappeared before.
"How did you do that?" Ron cried, thinking he was losing his mind. His eyes were as big as copper bells. "How did you get from here to there? Or even fly in?"
"We really don't understand what you're talking about, Ron," said Harry mysteriously.
"Yeah, how could a person appear in one place and another place at the same time?" Draco turned around and teased him using the words Hermione often said.
As he spoke, he naturally raised his arm so that Hermione could help him jump off the broom.
Ron opened his mouth, looking even more panicked.
The three of them couldn't help looking at him, and finally broke out in laughter that nearly drove Ron crazy.
"If you laugh again, I'll get mad!" Ron said angrily, forgetting his injured leg. He slapped his thigh, and the next second his face twisted, he gasped and fell back onto the pillow.
"Okay, calm down..." Harry hurried forward to see his injuries. "We'll tell you what happened right now."
To calm Ron's frightened heart, they shared with him a huge chocolate cake provided by Madam Pomfrey and explained everything to him:
How they used Hermione's Time Turner to travel back three hours and trace the footsteps of their other selves;
How Crookshanks had quietly killed the rat when no one was looking, accomplishing what Sirius Black had failed to do;
How did Harry cast the Patronus Charm and save himself on the other side of the lake.
"Wow! You saved yourself? This is outrageous! Wait, Professor Snape's Patronus is exactly the same as your mother's? But a doe and a stag are a pair, aren't they? Is there any relationship between him and your father? My brain is about to explode!" Ron was amazed. He took a big bite of cake and said excitedly and regretfully, "How many good things have I missed? It's all my fault! Harry, you have to tell me again--"
Draco shook his head and gently closed the door of the school hospital, shutting out Ron's thousandth question and Harry's endless explanation.
"I think they'll probably stay up all night tonight," Draco said affirmatively as he and Hermione walked around the castle.
The night is deep and everything is silent.
"Yes, today has been too long. The endless coincidences and accidents... there are too many to talk about." Hermione said softly.
"That's right." Draco said with emotion, "Professor Snape's Patronus is quite surprising."
"It's not that surprising." Hermione recalled, "Do you remember the last time the Dementors attacked you and Harry on the Quidditch pitch? At that time, I seemed to have seen a doe. At that time, I wondered who had released it..."
"It's all clear now," Draco said, walking alongside her past a sleepy portrait. "Remember what we were discussing? Professor Snape's feelings about Harry's mother?"
"Yeah. It's not hate - it's love," said Hermione.
She recalled the conversation between Draco and Harry by the Black Lake not long ago.
"That doe was conjured by Professor Snape!" Harry buried his face in his hands and said painfully, "I don't understand! Why is all this happening?"
"Why?" Draco asked. "What's bothering you?"
"He was my mother's friend, wasn't he? But he never told me anything about my mother's past like Professor Lupin did. All year long, I tried to be nice to him, tried to understand him, even tried to tolerate all his rude taunts in Potions class, but all I got in return was worse torture. He never said a word to me! He suppressed me, stared at me and was mean to me, he never showed me any kindness! He even prevented me from going to Hogsmeade and made things difficult for me! He simply couldn't bear to see me happy! He hated me!" said Harry, getting emotional. "I really don't understand!"
"There's nothing to be confused about. Your godfather said he hated your father. He and your father were a love rival, so of course he would hate you because you look like your father." Draco said calmly, "This has nothing to do with you."
"Yeah, then hate me to the core! Then why did he save me?" Harry was confused and a little angry. "Why didn't he just let me fend for myself? It was the same in first grade, and it was the same this time. Why did he save the son of his enemy?"
"It's simple," Draco said calmly. "He's always had a deep affection for your mother—still does today. The same Patronus is proof of that."
"Maybe it's just a coincidence! Sirius said that he and my mother had been enemies for a long time." Harry looked into Draco's calm gray eyes, feeling a little panicked. "It should be common for wizards to have similar patronuses, right? I don't believe wizards don't have similar patronuses! George and Fred's patronuses are exactly the same! But they are not lovers."
"They are blood brothers with a deep bond, aren't they?" Draco reminded him. "You'll find that the connection between the Patronus Charm goes straight through the soul, and that can never be deceived. I admit that there are indeed wizards who are not related to each other and have the same Patronus, but if the Patronus is similar between relatives and old friends, there must be a special meaning. It is difficult for non-blood relatives to conjure up an identical Patronus like the Weasley twins. It requires a strong resonance of the soul. He must have a deep affection and strong identification with your mother. This is definitely not something that can be achieved by hatred, but the opposite."
Harry closed his mouth. He stared at the Black Lake silently for a moment, his tone dry, "So, you mean, he and my mother are more resonant soul mates? They released the same Patronus, didn't they? Even my father's Patronus looks different from my mother's—"
"Oh, I don't think you need to worry about that," Draco said lightly. "Professor Snape's Patronus was acquired; the doe he released wasn't natural. I asked my father, and he said Professor Snape once cast a certain Patronus when he was a student. I'm sure it wasn't a doe. Although your parents' Patronuses aren't exactly the same, it's clear that the stag and doe are a pair, and they're still soul mates."
Harry's face finally softened.
Hermione recalled their conversation as she walked leisurely with Draco in the dimly candlelit corridor.
"Draco, Professor Snape's original Patronus form—" Hermione asked with interest, "What exactly is it?"
"A bat," Draco whispered. "His old Patronus was a bat. That's why Sirius Black called him a greasy little bat."
"Oh," said Hermione, speechless at the answer.
She walked in silence for a while, and suddenly realized that he was following her.
It suddenly occurred to her that he seemed to be planning to take her back to the Gryffindor common room first, and then to his Slytherin common room.
"Draco, there's no need to go to so much trouble," she said awkwardly, turning her head to glance at him. "I think I know the way back to the common room."
It's so out of the way, isn't it?
One is on the top of a high tower, and the other is at the bottom of a dark lake. She thought lostly.
"I insist," he said calmly. "You've had enough exciting things today. I have to make sure you have a short, uneventful journey back to the dorm."
"All right, then," she said hesitantly.
Tonight, she really didn't want to encounter any more accidents, coincidences or anything else.
However, she always felt that there was something wrong with him.
It seemed that things had taken a strange turn since she punched him.
Draco Malfoy was a proud boy. He was as proud as she was. Even the portraits snoring in the corridors had a sliver of his pride.
"When it comes to tough people, Draco Malfoy is definitely at the top of the list - in every sense of the word," she once heard the fearless Fred say to Lee Jordan with a grin.
In the entire Hogwarts, no one dared to really provoke him, or get any advantage from him, let alone beat him up - this was unimaginable.
But she beat him up. Strangely, he didn't get angry, his pride wasn't hurt, he didn't retaliate cruelly, he didn't ignore her, or never have anything to do with her again.
Instead, he was gentler and more obedient than usual, and more keen to get close to her.
Even though she tried hard to look stern tonight, he didn't care and still treated her kindly.
He protected her, hugged her, comforted her, gave her medicine, fed her chocolate, and sent her back to the dormitory.
Was this his normal reaction after being punched? Had he lost his mind after being beaten by her? Hermione was confused.
He even treated her with extra care. He had been treating her with extra care all night. His gentleness and consideration made her feel more and more greedy and dependent, and at the same time, the bitterness in her heart became deeper and deeper.
The better he treated her, the more uncomfortable she felt - he was protecting her like a sister.
Hermione sighed in frustration, and even her steps up the stairs became heavy.
"What's wrong?" he asked sharply. "Tired?"
"Yeah." She said perfunctorily.
"I'll take you away." He took her hand casually, crossed his fingers, wrapped them around her tightly, and took her away.
Hermione could hear her own heartbeat again, the sound piercing her ears and breaking the silence of the night.
"Listen, Hermione, I want to apologize to you about—" Draco began hesitantly, wanting to try to explain the misunderstanding.
"Don't, don't say that," Hermione said hastily. "I don't want to talk about that."
"Okay," he said uneasily, and fell silent.
The flickering candlelight trembled uncertainly in the niche, and boys and girls walked up the silent stairs step by step.
He was slowing down his previously arrogant pace to match hers; he was gently leading her by the hand, helping her avoid all the sinister stair traps.
Like an unreal, dark, sweet dream, he silently held her hand, warm, strong, and firm.
The mottled light and shadow cast on the bones of his face create a kind of beauty that is both heart-pounding and heartbreaking.
She was having palpitations and her heart was breaking at the same time.
It was as if some trapped beast was bound within her. She could neither breathe nor cry out.
In the lonely night, they held hands.
Melancholy lingered. Her love for him was reaching its peak, about to burst through the sky; but her despair had also plummeted to the bottom, about to break her, shatter her, and turn her into dust.
"Draco," Hermione said with difficulty, her voice hesitant and full of bitterness, "Can you... not be so nice to me -"
He shouldn't be so nice to her.
Who can refuse such kindness from him?
So gentle, so delicate, so misleading, so seemingly uniquely good.
Who can guarantee that his heart will always be as hard as a rock and will not be moved by this cruel boy?
"Can you please not hold my hand?" Hermione said shudderingly.
She tried to break free from his hand, trying to distance herself from him; but he held her hand tightly and refused to let her go.
He stopped and turned to look at her.
The serious grey eyes blinked slowly and then fixed their gaze on her.
She could see her own face in those eyes.
That face looked a little confused, a little fragile, and a little sad.
Her fatigue made her hidden bad mood come out clearly. He might have seen through her duplicity long ago, Hermione thought wearily.
They stood on the deserted staircase for a long time, looking at each other quietly.
"No," Draco said softly but firmly.
At this moment, he no longer had a stern face and was no longer extremely serious.
He smiled at her actively, with sparkling lights in his eyes.
He was looking deeply into her eyes, as if trying to capture her fiery soul. Then, he would embrace her soul without hesitation, no matter how blazing it was, whether it would burn him or turn his dead wood into ashes.
He smiled silently, his eyes filled with a very light mist.
In the face of death, they could still embrace each other; now that he had escaped death, he was tired of retreating and hiding.
She was in his hand. He was so selfish that he didn't want to let go. He wanted to give it a try.
What would happen if I kept holding her?
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I can't do this." He stared at her stubbornly and whispered, "I want to be good to you. I - I want to hold your hand."
She was stunned by his answer.
He is totally unreasonable!
She wanted to contradict him immediately. Merlin, she really wanted to contradict him.
But the smile he showed was exactly the kind of smile she liked, although there seemed to be a glimmer of water in the shadow cast by his eyelashes.
He seemed certain of something, yet there was a sense of unease that threatened to break at any moment. She could sense this unease, for she felt it too. She forgot to retort, and instead let his expression lead her into a state of confusion.
She wondered why he was upset.
She let him pull her along, and continued walking, moving upwards.
She was silent and conflicted, with a little bit of joy and expectation, as well as a little foolish suspicion and delusion.
Hermione decided to give up thinking for the moment.
Perhaps she shouldn't be thinking about such an important question right now. This wasn't a good time to be clear-headed and thinking.
Maybe she should relax and grasp the only sense of security in this silent and empty space.
"I have to admit something to you." When the road was almost over, Hermione sorted out her thoughts and told Draco some of the thoughts she could still make sense of.
"What?" he asked.
"I borrowed a little of your roundabout tactics today," Hermione said. "I have to admit that sometimes Slytherin's tactics are still useful."
"That's unexpected," Draco smiled at her cheerfully. "First, you admit that Slytherin's professor isn't that bad, and then you admit that Slytherin's methods have their merits. What are you going to do next? Transfer to Slytherin and throw yourself into the Slytherin family?"
He walked her straight to the portrait of the dozing Fat Lady, teasing her with double entendres and looking at her intently.
"I'm just telling the truth! Of course I won't transfer to another hospital. I'm a Gryffindor through and through!" Hermione argued, her face slightly red.
What does "throw oneself into the arms of Slytherin" mean? His words are so ambiguous.
She glared at him in panic, but he just smiled happily at her.
A genuine and happy smile, not a fake smile at all.
She wrinkled her nose at him with a look of disdain, let go of his hand, and stepped into the portrait of the Fat Lady without looking back; the next moment, she was hiding behind the portrait and suddenly covering her blushing face.
The boy watched the girl's brown hair disappear behind the portrait without stopping, leaving as lightly and gracefully as a heartless cat. He couldn't help but laugh and mutter, "What a heartless little scoundrel."
"Oh, they always are," said the Fat Lady sleepily. "And yet you'll like her all the same."
"That's quite a wise saying." Draco shrugged at her, turned gracefully and walked downstairs.
The next morning, Hagrid discovered Peter Pettigrew's body while watering the vegetable patch. By then, his body had turned back into a human form, rather than an easily overlooked rat.
When Draco, Hermione and Harry rushed over, they found him lying in the place where Crookshanks had vomited out the dead rat yesterday, with a look of fear, dullness and surprise on his mutilated face.
Draco wasn't surprised by this.
After an Animagus is seriously injured, it will gradually turn back into a human because it no longer has the magic power to support such a change in form; the same is true after an Animagus dies.
"Don't look at him, Hermione, he's been bitten disgustingly." Draco dodged and stood in front of Hermione. "I suggest you brush Crookshanks' teeth."
Hermione curled her lips, glanced at the ground, and turned her head to study the big pumpkin planted by Hagrid.
"Hermione, what's going on between you and that Malfoy brat?" Hagrid put the bucket in his hand heavily next to a large pumpkin, looking a little worried. He bent down and asked her quietly, "Didn't he make you very upset yesterday? Why are you hanging out with him again today? And why did he suddenly appear next to you last night? Is it okay? He won't tell anyone?"
"Oh, Hagrid, relax. He was just passing by last night and helped us a lot. He'll keep what happened last night a secret. As for that matter, he apologized to me later." Hermione said with a shrug, looking nonchalant. "I must say, I may have been a little stupid yesterday."
"A Slytherin student! Would he be kind enough to help? Hermione, don't forget, all the dark wizards come from that house, and the Malfoy family used to be supporters of You-Know-Who! Don't forget that." Hagrid said warily, "Hermione, you'd better be careful, don't let him deceive your feelings!"
"Don't worry, Hagrid. To me, he is just an ordinary friend from the next door college." A look of arrogance appeared on Hermione's face, as if she was persuading herself.
Yes, she had figured it out. She couldn't ignore Draco, nor could she bear a second blow.
Just be ordinary friends and keep a safe distance, just like he did to her before.
Just like this, let's stay in this state, Hermione glanced at the boy who was talking to Harry over there, suppressing her heartbeat.
After all, she still had endless papers to write and a mountain of pre-exam review plans to complete, and she didn't have the energy to dwell on this matter!
Then, Hermione took a deep breath, changed the subject, and asked lively, "By the way, I've been wanting to ask for a long time, how did you cast the Swelling Charm on the pumpkin? Did you use that big pink umbrella of yours?"
"Ah, uh, well..." Hagrid suddenly became flustered. He knocked over a bucket beside him and hurriedly straightened it up. "Hermione, do you want a snack? I'll get some rock cakes..."
As Hegeding clanged away collecting buckets, Harry stood by, staring silently at Peter Pettigrew's body with deep fear and disgust.
"His death was too sudden and too easy," he said to Draco.
"It was an accident," said Draco, who was thinking about the cat, Crookshanks.
An ordinary cat couldn't kill an Animagus with its bite, unless it was the descendant of a magical creature like Crookshanks.
It was incredibly smart, appearing in the right place at the right time, moving freely between the two timelines they had opened up, and ultimately accomplishing something amazing and remarkable.
Although cats and mice have never gotten along since ancient times, it seemed that the cat was particularly competitive with the mouse, as if there was some deep hatred between them.
Draco didn't believe that such an intelligent magical creature couldn't tell the difference between a mouse and an Animagus.
Maybe it's a personal grudge, not just human nature.
Draco looked at Hermione who was smiling and talking to Hagrid in the distance - she seemed to have always liked Crookshanks.
The matter was done, and there seemed no point in pursuing it any further. She probably didn't want to lose her cat.
Finally, he said to Harry in a nonchalant tone, "Cats catch mice."
The black-haired boy remained noncommittal and turned his gaze towards the large pumpkin next to him, his face still slightly confused. Everything that happened yesterday seemed like a long and empty nightmare to him.
Draco watched Harry's devastated state, and a spark of sympathy grew within him. Harry must have been tormented last night, too. So he changed the subject to something lighter, determined to change the spirited boy's mind. "Harry, I must say, I've seen you grow."
"What do you mean?" Harry said confusedly.
"After three years, you've finally learned to use your wand instead of just fighting your opponent." Draco said with relief. "That Patronus Charm was cast quite well."
"Oh, thank you. It's not easy for you to compliment someone." Harry grinned. "But why do I feel that there is a hint of sarcasm in your words?"
"Honestly, I'd probably be more relieved if you hadn't tried to crawl under the Whomping Willow with your bare hands last night, or if you hadn't tried to fight a werewolf head-on," Draco teased him. "Come to think of it, it seems you haven't gotten over your Gryffindor habit of engaging in physical combat with dangerous creatures."
"Oh, that's not convincing at all when it comes from a Slytherin boy who put his body in front of a werewolf." Harry laughed dumbly. "Draco, where was your wand then? Why - why did you lose your usual caution and do something so impulsive and reckless that you always dislike?"
"I don't know," Draco said quietly, his eyes fixed on Hermione as she spoke to Hagrid.
Harry on the side looked at him curiously, then looked at her, and finally shook his head and smiled slightly.
Soon after, Minister of Magic Fudge arrived. As usual, he wore a yellow-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak. He personally examined the body in the vegetable garden and declared it to be Peter Pettigrew.
"He must have been eaten by some giant animal from the Forbidden Forest." Fudge slowly examined the mutilated corpse for a while, making a sound of disgust. "Look at the wound, it's so jagged."
"In that case, there's no need for Dementors to remain stationed at Hogwarts, right?" Professor Dumbledore said with a smile beside him, his silver beard shining in the morning sun.
"Of course, of course not. I will remove them immediately. Lucius Malfoy has complained about the Dementors countless times, and now we can give him an explanation." Fudge's fat face looked radiant. "The incident with Peter Pettigrew is finally over, and we don't have to worry anymore..."
He glanced at the dial of a large gold pocket watch hanging on his waistcoat, said hello to Dumbledore, and walked away happily and hurriedly.
"I had almost just arrived in London when I received an owl from Hagrid, so I had to rush back without stopping. It was a really tiring night. Fortunately, you guys managed well without my help, didn't you?" Dumbledore said with a smile to the figures standing on the stalks of the field.
His sharp eyes were hidden by his half-moon glasses, and on this brisk morning, when everything had settled, he looked kind.
Harry, Hermione, and Draco smiled sheepishly at him. They had only told Dumbledore part of the truth; the part about Hermione's Time-Turner had been omitted.
No one wanted to cause trouble for her.
But Draco guessed that Dumbledore had already seen through this and just chose not to mention it.
"Sir, Professor Snape said he would recommend to the school board to expel us..." Hermione asked tentatively.
"If I were you, I wouldn't be worried," Professor Dumbledore replied with a smile on his face. "You fought bravely against Peter Pettigrew and ultimately eliminated the threat to the wizarding world. This was an extremely brave act and you deserve a special contribution award from the school—of course, you broke about fifty school rules during that time."
She knew it! Hermione wailed inwardly. She had anticipated violating school rules and such!
Seeing their increasingly panicked expressions, Dumbledore raised his hand, motioning them to calm down, and continued, "I won't deduct any points from you. After all, there are reasons for what happened. But you will need to accept some punishment. Why not go with Hagrid to the Forbidden Forest and do some voluntary labor? I heard that those hippogriffs had a rough time last night. Several of them were injured, and he can't handle it all by himself."
Draco's eyes flashed guiltily. The big birds were injured because of their deliberate guidance.
He glanced at Hermione secretly and found that she was also a little uneasy and was secretly glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes.
"That's fine with me," Draco said to Dumbledore, and Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Then it is settled!" Dumbledore's blue eyes sparkled with delight. "Now, I suggest you hurry to the Great Hall. Nothing cheers you up better than a glass of hot pumpkin juice in the morning!"
"Mr. Dumbledore, are you coming with us to the Great Hall?" asked Harry.
"Well, I must first write to Mr. Scamander and ask him to come and see how the Hippogriffs are doing," said Dumbledore. "He's very good at treating magical creatures."
Just as Draco and the others put their minds at ease and happily went to the Great Hall for breakfast, Severus Snape limped towards his office with the intact bottle of wolfsbane potion in his pocket and anger and worry in his heart.
For the entire school year, he had watched over Potter like a dutiful old nanny, fearing that something might happen to him. This matter was more tiring than all the advanced potions he had studied combined.
Potter...what an ignorant troublemaker!
He recalled the dangerous scene last night - werewolves, and Dementors. It was a disaster! If he hadn't held on to his last breath and cast the Patronus Charm, Potter might have been killed.
By the way, after casting the Patronus Charm, before he fainted, he seemed to see two deer in a daze.
But that was impossible, at that time, everyone present fell down.
It must have been an illusion created by the reflection of the lake. He pursed his lips tightly, a feeling of weariness washing over him.
As he passed by the cellar, which was never easily opened, he took a casual glance and suddenly discovered that the door, which was always tightly closed, was ajar. This unusual situation caused a brief look of surprise to appear on his usually expressionless face.
He suddenly opened the door, dragged his limited legs and walked in as quickly as possible, passed through numerous mechanisms and came to the deepest part of the cellar, and confirmed something that surprised and collapsed him - Quirrell's body, along with the Dark Lord's soul, disappeared.
No one knows how Quirrell escaped.
All that was left at the scene was a wand and the unconscious Neville Longbottom.
"What happened, Neville?" Dumbledore asked Neville who had woken up in the school hospital, "Why did you appear in that place?"
"Professor Dumbledore, I went to look for the wand! It always disappeared and then appeared near the dungeon!" Neville, with a bandage on his head - a big bump on the back of his head - recalled with a sad face, "Then, I heard someone talking behind a door, so I walked over to take a look, and found that it was pitch black inside, and a person slowly stood up - he had my wand in his hand!"
"Did you see who it was?" asked Dumbledore.
"It was Professor Quirrell!" Neville blinked and trembled, "I wanted to ask him for my wand back, but he hit me with my wand! I flew into the wall... and the next thing I know, I don't remember anything!"
"That bump on the back of your head is probably from hitting the wall," Dumbledore said softly.
"Wait! Did he take the wand away?" There was a hint of despair in Neville's voice.
"This is your wand, I suppose," Dumbledore said gently, handing the ash wand left at the scene back to Neville's hand.
"Thank Merlin, otherwise my grandma would have killed me!" The poor boy ignored the pain in the back of his head and took the wand, looking left and right, ecstatic.
In addition to Neville's experiences, the scattered memories of the portraits hanging everywhere in Hogwarts helped Dumbledore to piece together a piece of the truth.
While visiting his drinking buddies, Sir Cadogan happened to catch a glimpse of Quirrell, the former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Quirrell had briefly appeared in the passage at the cellar door at noon on the day of the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff match.
The curious giraffe had also followed the pale Quirrell in the portrait, wanting to see what he was doing, until he swaggered through the empty hallway and disappeared into the vast fields.
Quirrell undoubtedly chose a most favorable time.
When he escaped, Gryffindor was fighting a tough tug-of-war with Hufflepuff on the field. The score was once 149 to 150, and there was still no trace of the Golden Snitch. All the students were gathered in the stands to watch the exciting game. The professors - Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall and others - were all on the field to ensure that no Dementors attacked the players on the field or the students in the stands.
For two years, Dumbledore had remained silent about the Dark Lord's spirit behind Quirrell's head.
The students at Hogwarts only knew that Quirrell had harmed unicorns in the Forbidden Forest and was later caught by Hermione and the others.
No one would have thought that the Dark Lord possessed Quirrell and escaped with him.
Otherwise, people might have been more alert to Quirrell's presence.
Only then did Dumbledore understand what Peter Pettigrew had done.
He sneaked into Hogwarts again and again in the form of a mouse, and never thought of revenge, nor did he ever think of killing Harry - in this respect, he was surprisingly honest.
He had been exploring Hogwarts faithfully, searching for the body in which his master's soul resided, and he had finally succeeded.
Before Harry and the others discovered Peter Pettigrew in Hagrid's tea can, he had already completed his evil mission:
He successfully stole the wand of Neville Longbottom, the student with the worst memory, the least regarded, and the least lethal student in the entire Hogwarts, without arousing anyone's vigilance.
He found the cellar where Quirrell's body was kept, and used this wand to cast a spell, releasing the petrified Quirrell along with Voldemort's soul.
Then he turned back into a mouse and fled, leaving the wand to his master.
He was just unlucky enough and was chased by Hermione's pet Crookshanks, so he hid in Hagrid's hut.
Otherwise, he might have completed his mission and escaped with his master long ago.
They were completely fooled.
Sirius Black's suspicions were perfectly correct. This was no plan Peter Pettigrew could have devised.
There must be an opponent hiding in the dark, treating them as stupid pawns to be played with at will.
This opponent made everyone treat Peter Pettigrew as a target, and forget that there was a master behind Peter Pettigrew - Voldemort.