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Could it be... the wrong person was punished? That shouldn't be possible. This was a major criminal certified by the Ministry of Magic and wanted nationwide; the newspapers said he was heinous... Wait, it actually might be fucking possible! Thinking about those bureaucrats at the Ministry of Magic and their tendency to manipulate intentional murder into negligent homicide, what else was impossible?
He reached out his foot and gave Black a light kick. "Hey. Let me ask you something. Was it you who betrayed Joan Thorne?"
Black's consciousness was currently dissipating, tortured by the aftereffects of two Crucios. How could he have the energy to distinguish the question, let alone organize his words to answer?
"Tsk, it's useless asking you." Lynn curled his lip and drew his wand again, this time pointing it directly at Black's forehead.
"Legilimency!"
The magic forcibly pried open the gates of Black's consciousness and began to ruthlessly flip through his memories.
Countless images, sounds, and fragments of emotion rushed toward Lynn's consciousness like a bursting dam.
He saw the young and arrogant Marauders, saw the humiliation of Snape being hung upside down from a tree, saw the secret meetings of the Order of the Phoenix, saw the Potters' warm little cottage and baby Harry's crisp laughter, saw that terrible decision before Halloween—changing the Secret Keeper, and saw Peter Pettigrew...
Segments of memory flashed by quickly, and the truth was reflected clearly, like a mirror having its dust wiped away.
After browsing through these fragments, Lynn fell silent.
Holy shit! It really was the wrong person.
The one who betrayed the Potters and caused a series of tragedies was a wretched rat. And Black was just an unlucky guy who had been framed.
However, Lynn's mind raced. Who said I was doing this to avenge Ollie? I was clearly venting for Professor Snape's childhood!
This reason instantly became righteous. Look, wasn't this a classic case of school bullying? I'm just acting on behalf of heaven, righting a wrong!
Thinking this way, the faint trace of guilt in his heart immediately vanished. He even felt that the two Crucios just now were a bit too light.
Lynn glanced at Black, who was lying on the ground unconscious and looking completely broken. He sighed; since he was somewhat wronged, it wouldn't be appropriate to burn him.
He raised his wand again. This time, the glow of the spell became soft and eerie.
"Obliviate."
A silver-white light enveloped Black's head.
Lynn cautiously manipulated the modification and deletion of memories. He skillfully replaced the memory of himself casting the Crucio with an ordinary "Stupefy"—a reasonable reaction for a student trying to subdue a fugitive.
As for what he did afterward, it was all cleanly erased from Black's mind.
Having finished all this, Lynn stepped back a few paces and pointed his wand at the sky above the Forbidden Forest.
Whiz~ Bang!
An Explosion Charm, far more powerful than a normal one, violently erupted above the treetops!
The deafening roar, accompanied by a brief bloom of fire, was clearly audible even in the heavy rain. The airwave pushed the surrounding branches to sway violently, creating a thunderous noise.
This was something for the old Principal to worry about; after all, this was one of his people.
Far away at the Quidditch pitch, Dumbledore, who had just used his Patronus to disperse a large group of Dementors, had a slight change in expression. He hurriedly gave an instruction to Professor McGonagall beside him and turned on the spot—
Crack!
With a faint pop, he had Apparated away from the stadium stands.
The next second, on the empty ground not far from Lynn, the air distorted, and Dumbledore's figure appeared out of thin air.
The moment he saw Lynn, the heavy worry on Dumbledore's face instantly transformed into a complex expression.
"Child," Dumbledore's voice was still clear amidst the sound of rain, carrying a deep sense of helplessness, "this time... which werewolf did you burn this time?"
Lynn: "..."
His mouth twitched. Facing the Principal's blurted-out question, he didn't know how to respond for a moment. Lynn spread his hands.
"No, Principal... stereotypes are bad. It's really not a werewolf this time."
He pointed to Black on the ground and said in a serious tone, "I seem to have... accidentally picked up a fugitive?"
Only then did Dumbledore turn his gaze toward the unconscious Black on the ground.
---
Hogwarts Dungeon.
Dumbledore stood quietly to one side, watching the man in the center of the stone room who was bound to a stone chair by magical chains—Sirius Black.
Snape stood before Black. Without any nonsense, he roughly pried open Black's jaw and mercilessly poured a large bottle of Reviving Potion into it.
The potion made Black cough violently, but the effect was immediate.
Black looked up and saw Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore! Peter! It's Peter!"
He struggled violently, the chains clattering.
"That traitor! That sewer rat! He's the one who killed James and Lily! It was him! I'm going to kill him!"
The frenzied shouting echoed in the stone room.
Dumbledore's expression didn't change much as he stared fixedly at Black, seemingly lost in thought. "Where is the evidence, Sirius?"
It wasn't doubt, but a need for concrete proof. An accusation from a "mad" fugitive alone was meaningless.
Black's expression twisted.
"Evidence? He's an Animagus! Just like us! Me, James, and that damn basterd... we did it together back then... to accompany Remus... His Animagus form is a rat! He's hiding with the Weasleys! He's been hiding in that red-haired boy's pocket all along! I saw it! In the photo in The Daily Prophet!"
He was incoherent, but the key information was crystal clear: Peter Pettigrew was still alive, was an Animagus, and was hiding with Ron Weasley.
Snape didn't wait for Dumbledore's further instructions.
The next second, he turned abruptly and kicked open the dungeon door. Anyone could feel how furious he was...
Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor Dormitory.
An old-looking rat was pacing uneasily in a cage lined with soft cloth.
Its small eyes warily scanned the empty dormitory, a strong sense of unprovoked unease surrounding it.
It was the instinctive intuition of a rat. The heart-pounding feeling today was stronger than at any other time in the past many years.
It skillfully used its claws to flick open the cage latch and crawled out. It first listened warily for any movement outside the door, then quickly fumbled around Ron's messy bedside.
Soon, it found the wand that Ron hadn't taken with him.
It picked up the wand in its mouth and unhesitatingly squeezed out from under the door crack. Following a familiar route, it scurried out of the Gryffindor Common Room and into the corridor.
As luck would have it—
Just as it scurried into a corridor leading to the lower levels of the Castle with the wand in its mouth, noisy voices and footsteps came from the corner ahead—it was the large group returning from the Quidditch pitch!
At the front of the group was a bewildered Ron, with Professor McGonagall frowning beside him and a grim-faced Snape.
"Scabbers?!" Ron immediately saw the gray rat in the middle of the corridor trying to hide in the shadows by the wall, as well as the familiar wand in its claws. His eyes widened. "What are you doing with my wand?!"
Whoosh!
A spell shot out from Snape's wand, heading straight for the rat on the ground!
"Squeak—!"
But unfortunately, the target was an agile rat. Peter's perception of danger and the instincts honed from twelve years of hiding saved him.
He suddenly lunged to the side, and the spell grazed his tail, hitting the stone floor and sending up a few sparks.
Having missed the first shot, Snape and McGonagall immediately wanted to follow up with more spells.
However, the situation before them made them hesitate to strike; the startled "Scabbers" didn't run toward open space but instead dove headlong into the crowd of returning students!
"Ah! What's that!"
"A rat! There's a rat!"
"It's by my feet!"
The students immediately began to scream, instinctively stomping and dodging, and the corridor fell into chaos.
"Don't move!" Professor McGonagall shouted sternly, trying to maintain order.
Snape's face was ashen, his wand pointed at the bottom of the crowd, but he couldn't find a safe angle to cast a spell.
Amidst this chaos, Peter displayed an astonishing will to survive. He used the students' moving legs as cover, scurrying rapidly under shadows and the hems of robes.
He spotted a gap left by a student who had stepped aside to dodge and lunged out with all his might, instantly disappearing around the corner!
"He's getting away!" a student shouted.
Snape and Professor McGonagall set off in pursuit almost simultaneously, not even having time to give any further instructions.