The flames in the fireplace of Dumbledore's office sent Hermione back to the Gryffindor Common Room.
It was late at night, but there was no hint of sleepiness in Hermione's eyes; instead, a calm fire burned within them. Lia had reverted to her Ragdoll Cat form and lay quietly on her lap, only her ears twitching slightly.
Harry hadn't slept at all. He sat in an armchair by the fireplace, magic wand in hand, staring blankly at the flames, with the sadness and hatred he had brought back from the Three Broomsticks still lingering on him.
"Harry," Hermione's voice was soft, yet it was like a stone cast into still water, "we need your help."
Harry looked up and saw Hermione's face, which was full of determination.
"Professor Dumbledore believed us," Hermione said succinctly, omitting all unnecessary details. "He agreed to let us create an opportunity to make that liar show his true form."
A light burst into Harry's eyes as he stood up. "How? Do we just snatch him from Ron?"
"No, that would only make him run away." Hermione shook her head, her mind working at an incredible speed. "We need a closed environment, somewhere he can't escape and can't crawl into a mouse hole. Moreover, we need a reason Ron can't refuse, so he'll willingly walk in with 'Scabbers'."
"Hagrid's Hut." Harry immediately thought of the answer. It was a wooden structure, far from the Castle, and Hagrid was a friend they all trusted implicitly.
"Exactly." Hermione nodded, a flash of cunning in her eyes. "Hagrid has recently acquired an injured Hippogriff, and it's in bad shape. He wants us to go take a look. This is the'script' provided by Professor Dumbledore."
Harry understood. It was an invitation that couldn't be refused.
The next afternoon, the plan began.
As Hermione had expected, Ron had become extremely vigilant. He practically kept Scabbers in his innermost pocket, guarding him with his hand all day.
If anyone, especially Lia, so much as glanced at his pocket, he would bristle like an irritated hedgehog.
When Hermione and Harry found him and conveyed "Hagrid's urgent plea for help," Ron's face was written with suspicion.
"A Hippogriff? Buckbeak? What's wrong with him?"
"Hagrid said he was bitten by something, and the wound is very strange. He wants us to help look through some books." Hermione threw out her prepared excuse without changing her expression.
"Can't you two just go? I have to stay..." Ron instinctively covered his chest.
"Ron!" Harry took a step forward, his tone heavy. "Hagrid specifically asked for the three of us to go together. He said he's going out of his mind with worry! Have you forgotten how much he's done for us?"
Emotional and moral appeals were always Ron's weakness. His face flushed, and after struggling for a moment, he finally nodded reluctantly. "Alright... just for a bit."
The three of them walked toward Hagrid's Hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Hermione held Lia's hand. The Cat-girl was unusually quiet today, but her ice-blue eyes never left Ron's back, her cold gaze locked onto the tiny life squirming in his chest pocket.
Behind them, from a high window in the Castle, Dumbledore's azure eyes watched everything. Beside him, Professor McGonagall looked solemn.
"Albus, are you really going to let the children take such a risk?"
"It's not a risk, Minerva." Dumbledore smiled. "It's a practical lesson. Teaching them how to face lies and betrayal. Besides, those two need the training," his gaze fell on the boy with glasses and the Cat Girl being led by the hand, "they may both have to face Tom directly."
On the path to the Forbidden Forest, the winter wind swirled dead leaves, letting out a desolate wail.
In the distance, unseen by them, behind a massive oak tree, a pair of anxious and hungry eyes watched them greedily through the gaps in the branches.
It was a huge black dog with matted fur.
It had been lurking here for far too long, so long that it had almost forgotten it was once a person. Its goal was only one—the rat hidden in the Weasley boy's embrace, radiating an aura of betrayal and rot.
It was waiting for an opportunity. A closed-off opportunity with nowhere to run.
And today, as it watched them walk toward Hagrid's Hut, its opportunity had arrived.
Meanwhile, in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
Professor Remus Lupin was staring at a blank piece of parchment spread out on his desk. He pulled out his magic wand, tapped it lightly on the paper, and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
This was a product of his student days, which he had just confiscated from Harry under a pretext, and it brought back fond memories of his time as a student.
The ink woke up like a living thing, quickly outlining a precise map of Hogwarts Castle on the parchment. Moving ink dots represented every person in the Castle.
His gaze swept across the map and quickly found three familiar names: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. They were heading toward Hagrid's Hut together.
Lupin smiled gently; it seemed the children's relationship had improved.
However, when his gaze lingered on the dot for "Ron Weasley" for a fraction of a second longer, his smile instantly froze.
He saw a fifth name.
A name right next to Ron, so small it was almost negligible, yet incredibly clear. A name that should have turned to dust in an explosion twelve years ago.
Peter Pettigrew.
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