A ruined Hogwarts

Although extraordinary things seem to be happening in the castle this year, the lives of the students have not changed much. Hogwarts is still the same.

Owen continued his peaceful study life. He routinely received compliments and extra points from the professor in every class. After class, he would pet cats until they were soft in the corridors of the castle. Mrs. Norris was a good cat in his eyes. He paddled quietly in the study group gatherings, and began to deliberately observe the conditions of several Weasleys, but did not find anything unusual.

In response, Owen could only let out a sigh of sadness, and turned back to tease Tom in the diary. Regardless of whether it's a young Voldemort or an old Voldemort, the one who can hold it in his hands is the good Voldemort.

Blaise still likes to collect some weird items from all over the place, collecting things that interest him into his hands like a hamster. He also learned to make some simple magic props from Owen, and recently it seems that he has opened up a new world. The gate has come up with some gadgets that even Owen was inspired by.

Daphne was still working hard calmly and resolutely. Although she felt a lot more relaxed and relieved after having an open heart chat with Owen last time, she would not slow down her progress because of this. Perhaps, now she is more unwilling to lag too far behind Owen.

As for Harry and Draco... even though Draco clamored over and over again that he wanted his father to cancel the confinement system at Hogwarts, his and Harry's confinement continued unswervingly.

But since he claimed to write a letter asking Mr. Malfoy to change the castle administrator, Mr. Filch, who did not want to pack up and leave, finally made a compromise and no longer forced Draco to clean the toilet.

"Filch is a bully idiot!" Draco said proudly on the way to the solitary confinement. "I dare say that tonight I just need to take a walk around the castle..."

Harry walked beside him dejectedly. He felt depressed and had a headache when he thought about being asked by Lockhart to help him write a reply to his fans tonight.

Only a few meters away from Lockhart's office, Harry couldn't help but slow down and move forward at a snail's pace. Maybe he hoped to delay time in this way, even for a second.

At this time, the door of another office not far away opened with a creak. That was the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. The two offices are only separated by one room, and I don't know if they were arranged this way intentionally.

Peter Pettigrew's bald head poked out from the crack in the door. He first looked around warily. After seeing Harry and Draco at the other end of the corridor, his pointed nose twitched. , a pair of small eyes wandering erratically.

"Oh, Harry, why are you here?" he said in a sharp voice, rubbing his hands on his chest.

"I'm going to be in detention, Professor," Harry muttered listlessly. "Go to Professor Lockhart and write to him..."

Peter Pettigrew sniffed, his eyes moving restlessly in his sockets, as if he didn't want to look at him.

Another door also opened. Lockhart obviously heard the sound outside. He strode out of his office. When he saw Harry, his eyes lit up. He walked over and hugged his shoulders, smiling brightly. .

"Oh, what a charming night, isn't it? I can feel your restless breath even from a distance, our arrogant little villain." Lockhart said to Harry with a smile, ignoring the little wizard's smile. red face.

"Oh, and Pettigrew, I plan to attend your class tomorrow. Are you surprised?" He said happily to Peter Pettigrew again.

Peter Pettigrew's face stiffened and his lips pursed for a moment, and Harry thought he probably wanted to curse. But in the end, he just glanced sideways at Harry and said, "Gilderoy, could you let me borrow Harry from you tonight?"

Under Harry's surprised gaze, Lockhart's expression was stunned: "I know, he is such a charming little guy, right? But why don't you change the time? We have already agreed, tonight. Leigh promised to help me, he likes this kind of thing, doesn't he, Harry?"

He patted Harry's shoulder hard, looked at the extremely repulsive expression on the other person's face, and smiled with shining teeth: "Look, Harry agrees too. You don't know, Pettigrew, I have always been very guilty, It was all my fault that he made...I really want to kick myself a few times.”

"If I hadn't given him a taste of the limelight during the summer vacation and made him the front page of the Daily Prophet, he wouldn't have become addicted and went to hit his classmates..." Lockhart died Holding Harry's shoulders tightly, he said with a very emotional expression, "I gave him a taste of the sweetness. I made a young man no longer willing to be ordinary, and made him start to attract the attention of others by any means necessary..."

Harry's eyes were on fire. He remembered how stupid he looked in that headline - without glasses, with dull eyes, like a mentally retarded goose - and now he just wanted to strangle Lockhart to death. !

"But I think Harry's reputation is greater than yours, Professor Lockhart..." Draco said slowly, his gray eyes looking at Lockhart with disgust and disdain, "Why can't you say the opposite? Come and think about it, is it actually you who made the headlines because of Harry's name?"

Lockhart seemed to notice that there was a fourth person here. He stared at Draco in shock, as if he didn't expect that anyone in this world would talk to him like this.

"Gilderoy, I have something to do with Harry, something very important." Peter Pettigrew broke the awkward silence with a sharp voice, "I hope..."

"Of course I'm happy to make it easier for you, Pettigrew." Lockhart interrupted him directly, with a bright smile on his face again. He let go of Harry's shoulders and walked towards Draco with a smile: "Look, there is another bad boy here, and he actually used such a rude way to attract my attention. I think I need to take responsibility for this... …It’s my fault for being too indulgent towards young fans at this age.”

"Come and write a letter for me tonight, ha, aren't you so happy?" He said with joy to Draco, who looked arrogant and contemptuous, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his office, "Don't Worry, I will explain it to Filch..."

Harry stretched out a hand towards the two people's backs, his lips slightly parted, and watched as their figures were blocked by the closed door. He silently lowered his arms, mentally expressing his gratitude and condolences for Draco. This friend is very capable, and he really dares to take the blame if something goes wrong!

"Come in, Harry," said Peter Pettigrew.

Harry looked at the other person's pudgy back curiously and followed him into the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

This office has been transformed into its owner's favorite look. It is filled with all kinds of furniture and strange furnishings, making the activity space very small, and many corners are dark. Almost. The heavy curtains were drawn tightly even at night, and there was only one oil lamp burning in the room, making the place look very dark.

He sat on a large and soft sofa and looked up at the other person, eager to know what he was going to do with him.

In the dim flickering firelight, Peter Pettigrew's expression seemed to flicker, making it hard to see clearly. He silently squeezed into the depths of the office through the narrow passage and asked in a low voice: "Would you like something to drink? Pumpkin juice or black tea?"

"Thanks, pumpkin juice will be fine, Professor," Harry said.

There was a sound of rummaging through boxes and the collision of bottles and cans in the darkness. After a while, Peter Pettigrew came over holding a large kettle and poured a cup for Harry and himself.

He picked up his cup and took a sip, his small eyes shining brightly in the dim environment. He wrung his hands and said in a voice that sounded like he was talking to himself: "Harry, it's so troublesome for you to come here...Ah, I just want to talk to you, just talk." He seemed to be emphasizing something.

"No, I'm happy to be here, Professor." Harry took a sip of the pumpkin juice and decided it was too sweet, so he drank it down. As long as he didn't go to Lockhart's place, he felt like he could go anywhere, not to mention he was very curious about the person in front of him.

"It's too sweet, isn't it? I forgot... Ever since I came back, I always like to eat something sweet." Peter Pettigrew said in a whisper-like voice, and his eyes began to wander around again.

"I know, I've heard about your deeds..." Harry also whispered.

"My deeds...oh, I, I just didn't do anything well..." Peter took another sip of pumpkin juice and muttered under his breath, "Everything. They would rather I was dead, would rather I Never come back..."

"No, Professor, I know you are a hero!" Harry said seriously, his emerald green eyes were so bright under the dim firelight that there was no haze, "You are able to bravely and fearlessly do things that others dare not do. Defending your inner justice is something worthy of everyone's admiration. I think many people are very happy that you are still alive, such as the professors at the school, and there are too many people who know your deeds..."

"Really? You think so?" Peter Pettigrew stared at him blankly, sniffling hard, and his watery little eyes were filled with tears in an instant. He said in a high voice and with a trembling tone: "Oh, Harry, I'm really... really sorry..."

He lowered his head deeply, his short and fat body trembled violently, and choked with tears in his voice: "I am not a hero, your parents are. They are so brave and good people..." He He sniffed hard again: "I should...should have watched you grow up. I'm sorry, but...I can't go back."

"You know my parents?" Harry stared at him.

"Ah, yes, more than just acquaintance..." Peter Pettigrew raised his head and glanced at Harry's eyes, then quickly looked away, as if he was afraid of meeting his eyes, "Your eyes are exactly the same as your mother's. Ah, Your mother is a smart and brave witch with a sense of justice and a clear distinction between love and hate... You and your mother have very similar personalities."

"Your dad... we used to be very good friends. When we were in school at Hogwarts, we were almost inseparable..." He stood up tremblingly and walked through the crowded furnishings with some staggering steps. He knocked over several things and then rummaged through the depths of the bookcase.

After a long time, he came back and his mood became much more stable. He held a photo frame in his hand, and after glancing at it quickly, he hurriedly handed it to Harry: "I thought you might need it... This was taken when your parents got married. Photos, the situation was tense at that time and no one could trust anyone, so there were only a few of us..."

Peter Pettigrew sat down on the sofa again, wrung his hands together again, and stared straight at the table in front of him.

Harry stared blankly at the people in the photo. His parents held hands, leaning against each other and smiling at him. Standing next to him was a handsome black-haired man with a cynical smile, and a pale and haggard man, blinking and looking at him outside the photo with a gentle expression. Pettigrew stood on the outermost side, smiling with narrowed eyes.

"Professor..." Harry's voice became nasal, "Can you tell me about my parents?"

"Okay, okay..." Peter said lowly.

Harry felt that time passed too quickly, and it was almost time for him to leave. He learned some interesting stories about their schooling at Hogwarts from Peter Pettigrew, but for some reason, Peter was not very willing to tell him about the two remaining people in the photo.

He stood up reluctantly and looked at the other person with intimacy and joy in his eyes, as if he had found a relative he had not seen for a long time. But the more he showed such an expression, the more reluctant Peter was to look at him. Even though Harry emphasized it many times, Peter seemed to feel guilty for not taking good care of him.

Before going out, Harry paused and suddenly asked: "Pettigrew, where have you been all these years when you lost your memory?"

"In the Muggle world, everywhere... well, there is no fixed place to live." Peter said with a wink.

"I see..." Harry turned his head and looked into his eyes, but the other party avoided his gaze, "You won't lie to me, right?"

"Of course..." Peter repeated, "Of course."

Harry glanced at the other person's right hand that was missing his index finger as if unintentionally, then nodded and walked out of the office, his expression becoming thoughtful.

The door to Lockhart's office opened almost at the same time. Draco's face was blue, his eyes were dull, and he walked out as if he was sleepwalking, as if he had become a walking zombie. Lockhart smiled happily and patted Draco's shoulder, looked at Peter with a complicated expression, and said energetically: "Pettigrew, judging from your appearance, these little villains are really capable of causing trouble, aren't they?"

He shook his head and sighed: "This won't work. You have to learn how I educate my children. The next day I will give you a copy of my autobiography "Magical Me". I mentioned some common psychological problems among teenagers in it... ...You know, children at this age only have one thing on their mind..."

"Kill." Draco said quietly, looking at Lockhart with murderous eyes.

"Oh, rebellious little rascal." Lockhart ruffled his hair affectionately.

With a look of sympathy, Harry grabbed Draco who was reaching into his pocket for his wand, said goodbye to the two professors quickly, and hurriedly pulled him away. He has no desire at all for the two to be locked down until the end of the semester.

"Don't drag me, Harry, let me kill that... that boar!" Until they returned to the Slytherin common room, Draco was still roaring in anger and waving his wand murderously.

Even Owen, who was having a heart-to-heart talk with Tom, couldn't help but look over and raised his eyebrows in surprise. He felt that with Draco's current murderous intention, it wouldn't be a big problem to cast a death curse.

Harry managed to calm down Draco's emotions, then sat down next to Owen, stared at him deeply and said, "Petttigrew chatted with me all night..."

"Oh, you called me so kindly." Owen said lazily with a smile.

"I want to believe that he is the relative of mine you mentioned..." Harry was silent for a moment and said, "However, he seems to be hiding something from me, as well as some things from back then. You said that the mouse Regarding my only relative, I need to capture it and give it to Dumbledore...but you also said that you need to be extremely cautious because it will escape..."

Owen looked at him innocently, with a "what are you talking about" expression.

"If Pettigrew was really that mouse, if he didn't have amnesia, why would he run away from me? If he had amnesia, he shouldn't run away, right?" Harry hugged his shoulders and said clearly, "I decided Now, I want to check what happened back then!"

"Then you'd better find Draco." Owen raised his eyebrows, feeling that this guy has become a lot smarter. "His father can easily access the files of the Ministry of Magic. On this matter, my father... uh , he is more afraid of trouble."

"I will." Harry nodded, already determined. He didn't know what Pettigrew was hiding from him, but he wanted to know the truth.

"Do you know how a person can become an animal?" he asked suddenly.

"Oh, you can check out the third-grade Transfiguration textbook to learn about the Animagus." Owen lowered his head and looked at the diary in his hand.

After Harry walked away, he saw a line of writing appear on the diary: "Can you continue telling me about The Boy Who Lived?"

Owen dipped his quill in ink and wrote with a wry smile: "Harry Potter has a very terrifying ability. His hands can identify who has bad intentions towards him. Once such a person touches If you touch his hand, terrible blisters will appear on your body, and you will feel excruciating pain..."

"I think some magic can achieve similar effects."

"Yes, but I think Harry takes pleasure in this. He likes to see the pain of those who are not loyal to him." Owen wrote, "He also founded a study group at Hogwarts and began to absorb and Cultivating a group of followers, we have successfully gathered a group of top students and students from pure-blood families..."

"Tom, even I have to join this study group, because Harry will teach us some of the advanced spells that Dumbledore taught him!" he continued, "Even if he teaches us only the details, but It’s amazing enough. If I don’t want to fall out of the ranks of the outstanding, I can only choose to join them..."

"Dumbledore just let him do this?" Tom's handwriting became distorted.

"Maybe it's because Harry is willing to train Muggle-born wizards. Dumbledore likes such people." Owen wrote with a smile, "But Harry grew up in a Muggle family and was said to have suffered a lot of abuse. He He must hate Muggles to the core. But he is good at pretending and seems to treat everyone equally. Professors and classmates like him very much..."

"..." Tom fell silent, once again falling into deep doubt about life.

Isn’t what Harry Potter does a carbon copy of himself? Why are the two of them treated so differently? Dumbledore... is confused!

Owen suppressed his laughter and closed the diary. He used a long bird and snake feather as a cat-teasing stick, teasing Melete to pounce around.

As he raised the feather in his hand high, Melete's graceful and smooth figure drew a graceful arc in mid-air and fell straight into the fireplace.

"Silly cat!" Owen grabbed Melete's tail and lifted her out. He looked at her burnt beard and was heartbroken.