These days, the number of owls delivering letters in the morning is noticeably higher than usual.
Almost every student received at least one or two letters, making the hall bustling like a marketplace during breakfast.
For instance, Harry was somewhat bewildered watching Errol dive headfirst into the soup bowl in front of him, forcing him to put down his spoon and frantically pull out the completely decrepit brown owl from the bowl.
Covered in sticky soup, the owl didn't seem to know how to shake itself dry and just stood there dumbfounded, seemingly a bit dazed.
Hermione had to raise her wand to tidy up its sticky feathers, and once Errol was dry again, it shook its wings with some effort, flew back into the air, and tossed the letter it was clutching to Ron, then wobbled its way back out through the window at the top of the hall.
Abusing an old... owl, Harry couldn't help but think, watching the wobbling brown shadow.
The Weasley family's owl truly is excessively old; they're all worried it might suddenly keel over one day while delivering a letter...
However, Ron didn't have any time for that; he quickly tore open the letter in his hand, and a newspaper folded in four layers fell out from the envelope's inner pocket. Harry swiftly caught a corner of it before it could fall into the entirely unusable soup bowl.
The Daily Prophet.
Harry unfolded the newspaper and nodded; the past few days of The Daily Prophet... it was truly bustling, like today's headline news - "Millicent Bagnold, A Wise Leader? Or A True Fool," Writer: Rita Skeeter.
Hermione glanced over, furrowed her brow, "That's," she paused, seemingly searching her mind for keywords before continuing, "That's the previous Minister of Magic, during the trials of those defeated Death Eaters, he was in office."
Saying that, Hermione paused then added, "Although he was already retiring at that time, the writer of this article is purely trying to stir trouble."
Hermione was absolutely right; Harry, having finished the article, saw it as well. Rita Skeeter is purely a title chaser; the entire piece only mentions the former minister in the first paragraph, with the rest focusing on the current Minister, Fudge.
... Minister Fudge.
Harry couldn't help but blink; he vividly remembered that fat man's look, pummeled into a pig-headed state before being healed, and then pummeled again...
Thinking of this, the boy couldn't help but glance at Hermione and Ron beside him; the two of them - one never went to the office, and the other had his memory wiped, so Ron's only memory of that afternoon was realizing that the rat he's had for years was actually a middle-aged man in his thirties or forties...
And he had acne all over his face.
The most crucial point is, they practically shared the same bed every night.
... Tsk, why Fred and George had never mentioned this remains unknown.
Harry had learned from William how the latter found Peter Pettigrew—from seeing Peter's name on the Marauder's Map. This sounds perfectly reasonable, but Harry vividly remembers that before he and Hermione handed the map to William, it had always been in the hands of the Weasley Twins...
It can't be... that zero people cared about Ron late at night, right?
Ahem, anyway, Harry absolutely wouldn't mention Scabbers in front of Ron now; Ron had expressed multiple times in the past few days that just hearing the name makes him want to throw up. The source of Ron's letter was simple and clear; it was another page of Mrs. Weasley's thoughtful words.
She was probably quite startled; outsiders didn't know Scabbers was Ron's rat, but she did. Now, the news about Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew is spreading like wildfire, and The Daily Prophet's sales have been more than ten times those of last week—
"Mom said she's going to buy me a new pet, asking whether I want an owl or a cat—"
Ron folded the letter back up, saying excitedly, then fed the jerky in his hand to Crookshanks, who was idly lying on Neville's shoulder—
He's been treating Hermione's big ginger cat well these days; he originally thought it wanted to attack him, but unexpectedly, it was Scabbers... Peter that caused this trouble. Now that he no longer has the rat on him, Crookshanks has no qualms with Ron, and knowing this, the boy is now grateful to Crookshanks.
Ron had already decided, no matter what his next pet was, he would show it to Crookshanks first to make sure it wasn't another middle-aged man—
"If things keep developing like this, Sirius should be able to clear his name."
At this point, Hermione had finished reading the newspaper Harry passed to her; she ate a dumpling snatched from the Hufflepuff Long Table, from William's bowl, and wiped her mouth contently before drawing a conclusion.
"That's what William and Professor Lupin said too."
Harry nodded; Peter Pettigrew was still secretly imprisoned, while Sirius had already regained much of his freedom. Even though they hadn't gone through the Wizengamot's assessment, as William promised, Fudge was currently very cooperative with his work, so cooperative that if Harry hadn't seen it himself that afternoon, he might suspect William used Impereo on Fudge...
Just thinking about that day when Fudge "just woke up" with a panic-stricken, somewhat dazed expression, Harry shivered...
Can Imperio truly be that terrifying?
However, Harry didn't feel much else; after barely understanding what Professor Lupin analyzed with Sirius, he also understood why Professor Dumbledore's attitude was so ambiguous at the time, and why William sighed and punched Fudge—
At that time, he was really confused, Dumbledore's somewhat ambiguous attitude left Harry completely unsure who he should hate.
But now everything has settled...
"What do you think will happen to... Peter Pettigrew?"
Ron paused, and finally couldn't help but bring up the topic. After two or three days, his nauseated and disgusted emotions had eased quite a bit, and now he couldn't help but ask curiously.
"...Probably, life imprisonment in Azkaban?"
Hermione gave a fairly reasonable answer, which was also the mainstream thought in the newspapers now. Most people were speculating about Peter's fate, even though the Wizengamot hadn't even held a trial, he had already been convicted in the minds of most people who knew a bit of insider information, and that was the power of public opinion.
Harry raised the soup bowl without joining the discussion, although he also felt that what Hermione said should logically be the final outcome, but...
He had heard that afternoon with his own ears, William promised Sirius that Peter Pettigrew would definitely die.
After swallowing the last mouthful of broth, Harry wiped his mouth with his sleeve, touched his stomach, and said, "There's no class this morning, so I'm planning to visit Hagrid, do you guys want to come?" As he spoke, the boy stood up, his gaze sweeping over the other three.
He said he was going to see Hagrid, but actually... Sirius had been staying in Hagrid's hut lately.
...
"Care to share some insider information?"
By the Hufflepuff long table, Cedric leaned in closer to William, asking in a low voice.
"...Can't your meal keep your mouth shut?"
William glanced at him, then downed the soymilk in his bowl.
"No, I made a bet with my dad, he simply doesn't believe Peter Pettigrew is the real traitor, just because he received some Order of Merlin."
Cedric sighed and said somewhat helplessly, "Even when I told him the news came from Dumbledore," then he suddenly became somewhat excited, "I bet him fifteen Galleons, it's all I have—"
This was also the thought of many unrelated to this incident, after all, all the news was being spread via the Prophet Daily.
And as everyone knew, many thought they were being rational thinkers and felt their beliefs were the truth, for example, Astoria, sitting on the other side of William, was holding a magazine—by its bizarre cover, it was clearly a copy of The Quibbler.
It was said to be a special edition, which the little girl got from Luna.
True to its name, The Quibbler, this magazine opposed everything from the Prophet Daily, although not entirely; it seemed the chief editor, Xenophilius Lovegood, somewhat believed Dumbledore, focusing all arguments around whether Fudge was indeed an idiot.
In contrast to Rita Skeeter's cryptic praise and criticism, this Quibbler edition seemed self-funded by its editor, without taking a single Knut from the Ministry, allowing them to speak forthrightly, openly chastising Fudge, often throwing in several terms Luna constantly used but which nobody else understood.
Retracting his gaze, William also wiped his mouth, pushing the little dragon heads that had emerged from each of his sleeves back inside.
"You'll find out in a few days, and even if you win the bet, you probably won't get any money—"
After hearing what William said, Cedric's expression stiffened slightly, as if he suddenly realized the harsh reality—damn, what made him suddenly decide to bet with his dad? Not only would he not gain anything good from this, but he also unintentionally revealed the amount in his little vault...
Drat, after all, the older ones are indeed trickier...
...
After finishing breakfast, William habitually skipped the first Transfiguration class of the morning.
Having already become an Animagus and consistently scoring O (Outstanding) in exams, Professor McGonagall didn't really bother with him anymore.
Pushing open the door to Hagrid's hut, William hesitated slightly, seeing the room crowded with people, everyone's instinctive gaze made him reflexively take a couple steps back—
"Uh, did I come at a bad time?"