Chapter 66: The Prank Financing Case and the Three Broomsticks Eavesdropping Operation
Mid-December, heavy snow was falling.
Hogwarts Castle was covered in thick snow, like it was wearing a giant white nightcap.
Today was the last Hogsmeade weekend before the end of the term.
Harry Potter stood alone on the marble staircase, watching Ron and Hermione, bundled in scarves, follow the crowd toward the gate. He couldn't go because he didn't have a parent's signature.
"Goodbye, Harry," Ron said sympathetically. "We'll bring you back some Cockroach Clusters."
Harry forced a smile and waved, preparing to turn back to Gryffindor Tower to face the deserted common room.
"Psst, Harry! Over here!"
A hand suddenly pulled him behind the Statue of the One-Eyed Witch.
It was Fred and George.
"We've got something good for you," Fred said mysteriously, pulling an old, blank piece of parchment from his robes. "This is the secret to our success."
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." George tapped the parchment with his wand.
Ink lines spread across the paper, mapping out Hogwartsin detail, along with hundreds of moving Black dots.
[The marauders map]
"This is..." Harry was stunned.
"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Fred said proudly. "They are our idols."
"A very creative Alchemy product."
An abrupt, cold voice sounded from the shadow of the statue.
The twins were so startled they nearly dropped the map, and Harry turned around in alarm.
Moen White lifted the Disillusionment Charm and materialized from the air.
He was wearing a tailored Black cashmere overcoat and holding his black ironwood wand, staring at the parchment with the eye of an antique connoisseur.
"Morrin?!" the twins exclaimed in unison. "You were following us?"
"I am evaluating a project."
Morrin neither confiscated the map nor called Filch.
He stepped forward, reached out his gloved hand, and gently stroked the edge of the map.
"A Tracking Charm, a Personality Manifestation Charm, and an extremely clever Homomorphic Vengeance Charm," Morrin praised. "The four creators are geniuses. Although their taste is a bit vulgar, this doesn't diminish the commercial value of this item."
"What do you want, White?" George asked cautiously, hiding the map behind him. "You're a Slytherin, are you going to report us?"
"Report?" Morrin sneered. "Leave that childish behavior to Malfoy."
Morrin pulled a golden Gringotts check from his robes, holding it between two fingers, and handed it to the twins.
"One thousand Galleons."
The twins' eyes immediately glazed over. They had never seen so much money in their lives.
"This is the angel round investment for 'Weasleys Wizard Wheezes'," Morrin said lightly. "I know you are developing prank products. It's a very promising market. I want to buy in and take a 40% stake."
"What are the conditions?" Fred swallowed hard, struggling to pull his gaze away from the check.
"Two conditions."
Morrin held up two fingers:
"First, let me 'look' at this map—and I mean, a deep look."
"Second, lend this map to Mr. Potter. He needs to go to Hogsmeade to hear some'stories'."
The twins exchanged glances.
A thousand Galleons! How many fireworks and Skiving Snackboxes could that buy? And Morrin wasn't planning to steal the map, just look at it?
"Deal!" The twins quickly snatched the check, afraid Morrinwould change his mind.
"A wise choice, future CEOs."
Morrin smiled slightly. He stretched out his hand and pressed his palm onto the marauders map.
[Contact successful!]
[High-level Alchemy Item detected: marauders map]
[Core Law]: Omniscient Sight (Based on the Hogwarts Contract)
[Current remaining extraction attempts]: 8
"Extract."
[Extraction attempts consumed x 5]
[Probability stacking judgment... Success!]
[Congratulations on obtaining the Trait]: Tracker Network (Purple · Alchemy Blueprint)
[Description]: You have mastered the core logic of creating the "marauders map." You can apply this logic to any of your Alchemy products to build a massive monitoring network.
Morrin withdrew his hand, and a complex magical circuit diagram appeared in his mind.
With this, he could upgrade his "White Security System," placing the entire Magical World under his surveillance.
"A very ingenious design," Morrin commented. "Especially the creator called 'Wormtail'; although despicable in character, he certainly possesses some cleverness in Rune Structure."
He pushed the map toward Harry.
"Take it, Harry." Morrin looked at the bewildered savior. "Go to Hogsmeade. Go to the Three Broomsticks pub. The answers you seek are there."
"What answers do you know?" Harry asked.
"About your parents, about Sirius, and..." Morrin's eyes deepened, "about betrayal."
...One hour later, Hogsmeade, the Three Broomsticks pub.
Outside, the cold wind howled, but the pub was warm and noisy, packed with students drinking butterbeer.
Morrin sat in a private booth on the second floor, a glass of Firewhisky in front of him. He wasn't talking to anyone, just quietly looking down at the floor below.
He activated [True Sight].
At a table downstairs, he saw Harry, draped in the invisibility cloak, sitting next to Ron and Hermione, eavesdropping on the conversation at the next table.
The group sitting at the next table held considerable weight:
Minister for Magic Fudge, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, and the bar owner, Madam Rosmerta.
"Tell us, Minister," Madam Rosmerta poured Fudge a drink. "What exactly happened with Black?"
What followed was the famous revelation scene from the original work.
It was about the Potters' Secret-Keeper, about Sirius being Harry's godfather, and about the explosion that killed twelve Muggles.
"He betrayed James and Lily!" Professor McGonagallchoked out. "He was their Secret-Keeper! No one else knew where they were!"
"Peter Pettigrew was a hero," Fudge sighed. "He tried to chase Black, and all that was left was a finger..."
Under the invisibility cloak, Harry trembled all over, nearly crying out.
Hatred.
Overwhelming hatred burned in his chest.
Sirius Black was not only a murderer but his parents' best friend, his godfather! He was the one who sold his parents out to Lord Voldemort!
In the private booth on the second floor.
Morrin swirled the glass in his hand, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
"Did you hear that, Harry?" Morrin muttered to himself. "This is the official 'truth'."
"Be angry. Be hateful."
Morrin looked at the figure downstairs, invisible yet emitting an extremely unstable magical aura.
"The stronger your anger, the greater the impact when you discover the truth. And the easier that rat's disguise will be torn apart."
He pulled out the silver Alchemy Compass from his robes.
The red light dot representing Scabbers was currently resting in Ron's pocket, less than half a meter away from Harry.
"How ironic," Morrin took a sip of the spicy whisky. "The real killer is sleeping right next to you, yet you want to kill the only person who wants to save you."
"Young Master."
A man in a Black trench coat appeared silently behind Morrin. He was the captain of the White Family Security Team, and formerly an Auror.
"We found traces of a large canine near the Shrieking Shack."
"Very good." Morrin put down his glass and stood up. "Don't alarm him. That big dog is very sensitive right now."
"Also," Morrin adjusted his gloves, "notify Professor Lupin. Tell him... I have a new batch of'Special Supply Potions' to deliver to him. Ask him to pick them up from my office tonight."
"Understood."
Morrin looked at the heavy snow outside the window.
Christmas is approaching.
It's a good season for giving gifts.
"I think Sirius will be very moved if I send him a 'meeting gift'."
Morrin's fingers lightly tapped his wand.
"Perhaps... a 'copy of the map' that allows him to move freely in and out of the Castle?"
[Task Progress: Directing the "Shrieking Shack Night"]
[Current Extraction Attempts: 3]
[Target: time-turner]
"No rush." Morrin turned and walked downstairs, his trench coat flowing like a cloud.
"Time is on my side."
Chapter 67: Forked Shadows, Rotten Rats, and Observed Time
January.
The winter at Hogwarts was long and harsh.
Although the Christmas holidays were over, the festive atmosphere in the Castle had vanished, replaced by a heavier gloom.
Harry Potter had become taciturn.
Ever since he heard the "truth" at the Three Broomsticks, hatred had been growing wildly in his heart like a poisonous weed. He was no longer afraid of Black; he even wanted to find him to take revenge.
Meanwhile, Ron Weasley was worried about something else; his rat Scabbers was truly on its last legs.
It was losing hair severely, was nothing but skin and bones, and spent all day shivering in his pocket.
In a corner of the library.
Morrin White was sitting behind a large oak table, in front of him piled high with profound books on "magicMechanics" and "Time Paradoxes."
But he was not reading.
His gaze passed through layers of bookshelves and landed on Hermione Granger, who was fast asleep on a table not far away.
Hermione was too tired.
In order to attend all her elective classes, she had to use that golden hourglass hanging around her neck every day, traveling back and forth through timelines. Her mental state was already on the verge of collapse.
"The price of greed."
Morrin commented softly.
He activated the alchemy vision of the [Gate of Truth(Gold)].
In his field of vision, the space around Hermione was twisted. She was not just one person; behind her overlapped countless illusory shadows—these were the traces of magic left behind by her from different timelines.
"Can you see it? Her shadow has forked."
An ethereal voice sounded in his ear.
Morrin was not surprised; he tilted his head slightly.
Luna Lovegood was standing by his table, he knew not when. She was wearing Ravenclaw robes, still wearing the silver amulet Morrin had given her around her neck, and holding a copy of The Quibbler upside down.
"Good afternoon, Luna." Morrin pulled out the chair beside him. "Sit."
Luna sat down, not reading, but staring at the sleeping Hermione with those silver-gray eyes that seemed to be covered in a layer of mist.
"Her time is in a mess," Luna said softly, her tone filled with a hint of sympathy. "Like a ball of yarn tangled by a cat. If it isn't untangled, she will trip over herself."
"You can see time?" Morrin raised an eyebrow.
"I cannot see time, but I can see Nargles." Luna extended her finger and drew a circle in the air. "Her head is surrounded by golden Nargles, and they are eating her energy. That is the taste of the 'past'."
"A very precise metaphor."
Morrin nodded in agreement.
For a natural [Spirit Seer (Gold)] like Luna, the disturbance of the laws of time appeared in her eyes as a concrete biological form.
"That thing..." Luna pointed at the corner of the golden chain peeking out from Hermione's collar. "It is glowing. But there are Black spots in the light. It is dangerous, Morrin."
"I know." Morrin's fingers tapped the table lightly. "So I plan to 'repair' it for her."
Morrin stood up and walked over to the sleeping Hermione.
He did not reach out to take the time-turner.
That would wake her up and also attract Dumbledore's attention.
He simply tapped the black ironwood wand gently on the table in front of Hermione.
[Gate of Truth] — Law Resonance · Structural Replication.
Hum—
A golden ripple, visible only to Morrin, spread out, instantly scanning the internal structure of the time-turner.
Countless complex gear structures, the composition of the magic sand inside the hourglass, and the time runes engraved upon it were rapidly modeled in Morrin's mind.
[Analysis Progress: 10%... 50%... 100%]
[Congratulations! Obtained Blueprint: Ministry of MagicStandard time-turner (Purple · Precision Version)]
"Done."
Morrin withdrew his wand.
Although he had not directly gained the ability to "manipulate time," he had already mastered the technology to manufacture this object.
As long as he had enough materials, he could mass-produce this artifact that reversed causality.
"Sleep well, Miss Granger."
Morrin casually cast a [Calming Charm] on her, smoothing out her furrowed brows.
Returning to his seat, Luna was staring at Ron Weasley, who was walking over from not far away.
Ron was holding a few books in his hand, and his pocket was bulging.
Luna suddenly covered her nose, her brows tightly knitted.
"What is it?" Morrin asked.
"It stinks." There was a hint of disgust in Luna's voice, which was rare for her. "That red-haired boy's pocket contains a mass of rotting things."
"Rotting?"
"Yes." Luna nodded seriously. "It is not the smell of rotting flesh. It is the soul. That thing... its soul has already gone moldy, covered in Black maggots. It is afraid, and it wants to drag that boy into the mud as well."
Morrin's eyes turned icy instantly.
Scabbers, Peter Pettigrew.
Under the suppression of Morrin's "collar," coupled with the fear of Sirius closing in, this rat's psychological defenses had completely collapsed. A broken Death Eaterwas like an unstable bomb.
"Don't worry, Luna."
Morrin took a piece of Honeydukes chocolate from his pocket, unwrapped the paper, and handed it to Luna.
"That mass of rotting things will be cleaned up very soon."
"Will it be eaten by that big Black dog?" Luna took the chocolate and suddenly asked.
Morrin's hand paused for a moment.
"You saw the big Black dog?"
"Yes." Luna said, mumbling with the chocolate in her mouth. "That day at the Quidditch Pitch. It was squatting in the stands, looking very sad. It did not want to bite anyone; it just wanted to find its home."
"Sometimes, madmen see things more clearly than normal people," Morrin sighed.
Everyone in the world thought Black was a mad dog, but only Luna saw that it was a "sad dog."
"Go back to your tower after you finish eating, Luna." Morrin stood up. "There is going to be a 'big cleanup' in the Castle soon. I don't want you to be choked by the dust."
"Okay, Morrin." Luna stood up obediently. "You be careful too. Your shadow... is getting heavier and heavier."
...
After Luna left, Morrin stopped Ron, who was preparing to go find Hermione.
"Weasley." Morrin called out to him.
"What?" Ron looked at Morrin guardedly, his hand subconsciously covering his pocket.
"Your rat looks like it's dying." Morrin pointed at the bulge. "The collar I gave you last time is burning hot. This indicates that its vital signs are very unstable."
"This is all because of that cat named Crookshanks!" Ronsaid angrily. "That cat Hermione bought wants to eat Scabbers all day! Scabbers was scared sick!"
"Perhaps."
Morrin did not refute, but he took a step closer, and that powerful oppressive feeling forced Ron to step back.
"But I suggest you keep a close eye on it recently."
Morrin lowered his voice, his tone carrying a hint of imperceptible warning:
"Rats, as a species, usually do some crazy things before they die. For example... biting off their owner's finger and then running away."
Ron was startled. "What did you say?"
"Nothing." Morrin straightened up, returning to his indifferent demeanor. "Just a piece of after-sales advice from the collar sponsor. If it goes missing, remember to tell me immediately. My collar has a tracking function."
Having said that, Morrin turned and left the library.
In the corridor.
Morrin took out the silver Alchemy Compass.
The red dot, Scabbers, was indeed vibrating violently; it was a frequency of extreme fear.
"It can feel it."
Morrin looked out the window.
A ginger cat, Crookshanks, was squatting in a tree in the courtyard, staring fixedly at the Castle window. And beside that cat, one could vaguely see the shadow of a huge Blackdog.
Sirius and Crookshanks had formed an alliance.
They were plotting how to break into Gryffindor Tower and catch that rat.
"The stage is set."
Morrin put away the compass, toying with a Galleon in his hand.
"If Peter doesn't 'die' once, the plot cannot advance. And Sirius cannot clear his name."
"Then..."
A gleam of light flashed in Morrin's eyes.
"...let me help you arrange a 'wonderful' reunion."
[Remaining Draws: 15]
"Still a little bit short." Morrin walked towards the dungeons. "Once that rat is caught, I must extract the [Animagus (Purple)] and [Absolute Betrayal (Purple)] from it; only then will it be worthy of my layout over this past year."
Chapter 68: The Midnight Blade and the Rat's "Electronic Fence"
February, deep in the night.
In the Gryffindor Tower boys' dormitory, snores rose and fell in succession.
Neville Longbottom had been given detention by Professor McGonagall for the entire day for losing the password list, and he was now sleeping like a dead pig.
In his dreams, Harry Potter seemed to see that figure riding a broom, dashing through the wind and rain—not himself, but Morrin.
And on Ron Weasley's bed, the rat named Scabbers was curled up under the pillow, its fur standing on end.
It was trembling.
Not just because that damned cat, Crookshanks, was prowling outside the window, but more so because of the cold silver collar around its neck.
For the past few months, this collar had been like a curse.
No matter how it gnawed, scratched, or even tried to transform back into human form, the collar would release a current that paralyzed it, forcibly interrupting its transformation process.
That Slytherin called Moen White.
He knew! He must know!
Peter Pettigrew's bean-sized eyes were filled with despair.
He felt not like a pet, but like a prisoner waiting to be slaughtered.
Suddenly.
A familiar, soul-freezing aura appeared in the dormitory.
There was no sound of the door opening.
But the air was filled with a stale, rotten smell peculiar to Azkaban, as well as... the smell of a dog.
A shadow loomed over Ron's bed.
Moonlight shone through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating a thin, withered hand holding a long knife.
Sirius Black stood before the bed, flames of revenge burning in his deep-set eyes, staring fixedly at the lump bulging under the pillow.
"Found you..." Black whispered hoarsely.
He raised the knife and stabbed down viciously!
"Squeak—!"
Scabbers let out a shriek; it was its survival instinct. It darted out from under the pillow, fleeing desperately toward the foot of the bed.
The blade sliced through the pillow and sheets, landing only a few inches from Ron's throat.
"Ah—!"
Ron was startled awake.
He opened his eyes, saw the madman holding the knife, and let out a shrill scream.
The entire dormitory exploded in chaos.
Harry sat up abruptly, fumbling for his glasses.
Neville rolled off his bed.
Black ignored Ron's screams; he only wanted to kill the rat. He lunged to grab Scabbers.
But just then, an unexpected change occurred.
As Scabbers tried to bolt out of the dormitory door, the silver collar around its neck suddenly lit up with a blinding red light.
Zzz—!
"Squeak—!"
A sound that didn't sound like a rat at all, but rather like a human scream, erupted from Scabbers' mouth.
The collar released a high-voltage magic current.
The "electronic fence" set by Morrin had taken effect; without permission, it was forbidden to leave the host (Ron) beyond a certain range.
Scabbers was convulsing from the electric shock, frozen stiff at the doorway.
Black was stunned for a moment; he hadn't expected the rat to be immobilized.
He was overjoyed and lunged at it again.
"Get away!"
Harry finally put on his glasses, grabbed his wand, and pointed it at the dark shadow, "Stupefy!"
Black had to abandon the rat, dodging the spell to the side, shattering the window glass, transforming into a huge Black dog, and jumping into the night.
And Scabbers, the rat shocked half to death, took advantage of the chaos, endured the intense pain, and crawled into a crack in the floor.
Although the collar restricted it from leaving Ron too far, on this chaotic night, it had to find a place to hide.
...
Ten minutes later, the common room.
Professor McGonagall arrived in her tartan dressing gown, her face livid.
"You mean to say, Sirius Black stood at your bedside with a knife?" she asked Ron sternly.
"Yes!" Ron said, wrapped in a blanket, trembling all over, "He wanted to kill me! And... and my rat... it glowed! It made a human sound!"
"Glowed?" Professor McGonagall frowned.
"It's that collar!" Harry suddenly remembered, "The collar Morrin put on Scabbers! He said it was a tracker!"
...
At the same time, the Slytherin dungeon.
Moen White was not sleeping.
He sat on the sofa in the common room, holding the Alchemy Compass.
The red dot on the compass had just experienced a violent tremor and was now staying motionless in a crack in the wall of Gryffindor Tower.
"Triggered."
Morrin looked at the compass, the corners of his mouth curling upward.
"Defense mechanism activated. It seems our big dog friend is a bit impatient tonight."
"Young Master." Alfred stood to the side, draping a coat over Morrin, "Do you need to close the net now?"
"No."
Morrin shook his head.
"Going to catch it now would only get me a rat. That's meaningless."
Morrin stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the dark bottom of the lake.
"What I want is—"
"Sirius, Peter, Lupin, and that marauders map... I want them to take their final bow on the same stage."
"Tomorrow morning, send a letter to Professor Lupin."
Morrin's eyes flashed with calculated light:
"Tell him I saw a dead man's name on the 'marauders map'. Ask him if he is interested in coming to my office for tea to chat about the topic of 'resurrection'."
...
The next day, the Defense Against the Dark ArtsProfessor's office.
Lupin looked even more haggard than usual. Last night's break-in had kept him awake all night. He was not only worried about Harry's safety, but deep down, he also doubted—how did Black get in? Could his old friends have helped him?
"Knock, knock."
"Please come in."
Morrin pushed the door open and entered.
He was wearing his neat school uniform and holding a folded piece of parchment.
"Good morning, Professor Lupin." Morrin greeted politely, "I hope I didn't disturb your rest. But I found something... very interesting, and I think you should see it."
Morrin placed the parchment on the table.
It was the [marauders map]. It had been dropped during the chaos last night and was being "temporarily kept" by Morrin.
"This is..." Lupin's expression changed.
"You should be familiar with this, Mr. 'Moony'." Morrindirectly exposed his identity.
Lupin looked at Morrin in shock: "You know?"
"I am a Slytherin, Professor. I don't believe in coincidences, only intelligence."
Morrin extended his wand and tapped the map.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The map revealed itself.
Morrin pointed to a corner of Gryffindor Tower.
There was a small Black ink dot, with the name clearly visible:
Peter Pettigrew.
Lupin stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over.
He stared fixedly at the name, his face instantly turning as pale as a dead man's.
"Impossible..." Lupin muttered to himself, "He died... Siriuskilled him..."
"The map never lies, Professor."
Morrin watched him calmly:
"If Peter is still alive, then the case from twelve years ago, could there be another explanation?"
"For example... the one who truly betrayed the Potters was actually this rat playing dead?"
Lupin's hands trembled as he grabbed the map.
His worldview collapsed at this moment. If Peter was alive, that meant Sirius... was innocent?
"Where is he?" Lupin's voice was hoarse, "Where is he?"
"He is in Mr. Weasley's pocket. That pet rat that has lived for twelve years and is missing a finger."
Morrin gave the final answer.
"Professor, now we are facing a choice."
Morrin walked to Lupin's side, whispering like a demon:
"Should we hand this over to the Ministry of Magic and let them go through that long, bureaucratic process where the rat might even escape?"
"Or... should we do it ourselves, set a trap, and let the three friends from back then have a 'class reunion' that is twelve years late?"
Lupin looked up, and for the first time, a wolfish light ignited in his gentle eyes.
"How?" Lupin asked.
"Very simple."
Morrin took the bottle of [Side-effect-free wolfsbane potion (Enhanced Version)] from his pocket and placed it on the table.
"Drink it. Stay clear-headed."
"Then, tonight... we go to the Shrieking Shack."
"I think Mr. Black will be there too. Because the collar on that rat will guide the big dog to the right place."
Morrin adjusted his collar and turned toward the door.
"Bring your wand, Professor."
"Tonight, we are going to hunt the traitor."
Chapter 69: The Shareholders' Meeting at the Shrieking Shack and the Electrocuted Rat
June 6th, dusk.
The sun sank slowly behind the Forbidden Forest, dyeing the Hogwarts grounds a blood red.
An unsettling silence permeated the air.
Beside Hagrid's hut.
The executioner Macnair was sharpening his axe; the harsh sound of friction carried far into the quiet evening.
Minister for Magic Fudge and Dumbledore were inside the hut, having a final conversation with Hagrid.
Meanwhile, at the third-floor window of the Castle.
Moen White held a glass of ice water, watching all of this coldly through the one-way glass.
"Young Master, are you not going to save that Hippogriff?" Alfred asked. "You said it was your'scheduled asset'."
"Asset delivery takes time, Alfred." Morrin watched the three small Black dots in the distance—the Harry trio—sneaking out of the Castle under an invisibility cloak. "Besides, in this time loop, some things must 'appear' to have happened."
Morrin set down his glass.
He pulled that silver Alchemy Compass from his embrace.
The red dot on it, Pettigrew, was trembling violently, located near Hagrid's hut.
And another Black dot representing a high-risk creature, Sirius, was rushing toward that red dot from the edge of the Forbidden Forest at great speed.
"The hound has entered the field."
Morrin straightened the collar of his trench coat and picked up his black ironwood wand.
"Let's go. To the Shrieking Shack."
"There is a wonderful 'family drama' there tonight, and it wouldn't do to be without an audience."
...
Under the Whomping Willow.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just snuck out of Hagrid's hut.
They had originally intended to save Buckbeak, but had not succeeded.
Now, they were hiding under the invisibility cloak, listening to the sound of an axe chopping into a wooden post behind them; it was the sound of chopping pumpkins, but they believed Buckbeak had died.
Hermione was crying.
Ron was desperately holding onto his pocket.
"It's gone mad!" Ron said in pain. "Scabbers has gone mad! It's biting me! And that collar... that damn collar is discharging electricity!"
Inside the pocket, Scabbers was experiencing hell.
It smelled it.
That madman Sirius was nearby! It wanted to run, to transform, but Morrin's collar locked its magic tightly, and every struggle resulted in a violent electric shock.
"Squeak, squeak, squeak—!!!"
Just then, a huge Black shadow darted out from the grass.
It was a Black dog as big as a bear.
It ignored Harry and Hermione, lunging straight for Ron—or rather, straight for Ron's pocket.
"Ah!"
Ron was tackled.
The Black dog bit his leg and, like dragging a ragdoll, pulled him toward the tree hole of the Whomping Willow.
"Ron!" Harry and Hermione shouted and gave chase.
But the Whomping Willow swung its branches wildly, blocking their path.
After a bitter struggle, thanks to Hermione remembering to press that knot, the two finally squeezed into the secret passage.
...
The Shrieking Shack, second floor.
This was a room full of dust, with all the furniture smashed to pieces.
Ron sat slumped...
The Black dog disappeared.
In its place was a man standing in the shadows.
A head of matted hair, sallow skin, and sunken eye sockets.
Sirius Black.
"He's there!" Ron pointed at Black, shouting in terror. "He's an Animagus!"
Harry rushed in.
When he saw the enemy who had betrayed his parents, his reason instantly evaporated. He roared and lunged at Black, and the two wrestled together. Harry's wand was pressed against Black's throat.
"Are you going to kill me, Harry?" Black laughed hoarsely, a smile uglier than crying. "You are just like your father..."
"Shut up!" Harry's hands were shaking. "You killed them!"
"Expelliarmus!"
A red light flashed. Harry's wand flew away.
Professor Lupin strode in. He looked calm, but...
"If you want to kill Harry, you have to kill us first!" Hermione stood in front of Harry.
"No, Hermione." Harry looked on in shock as Lupin pulled the fallen Black up and even hugged him. "Professor? You... you are with him?"
"I once thought he was a traitor." Lupin's voice trembled. "Until someone showed me the marauders map."
"That map never lies!" Black pointed at Ron. "He's there! That traitor! Peter Pettigrew! He is in that boy's pocket!"
"You're crazy!" Ron yelled. "Scabbers is a rat! It's lived in my house for twelve years!"
"Twelve years? Isn't that a bit too long for an ordinary rat?"
A cold, elegant voice, completely out of place in this dilapidated room, suddenly came from the doorway.
Everyone turned their heads sharply.
Moen White was standing at the doorway.
He wasn't even holding his wand; he was just leaning on his black ironwood wand with both hands, like an aristocrat inspecting a construction site, his eyes sweeping over the dust-covered floor with disdain.
"Good evening, everyone."
Morrin stepped inside, his leather shoes treading on the rotting floorboards, making a teeth-gritting creaking sound.
"This place really needs a renovation. If I were the owner, I would sue the tenant who turned this place into a dump."
"White?!" Harry gritted his teeth. "Are you here to watch a joke? There is a murderer here!"
"A murderer?"
Morrin walked to the center of the room, his gaze shifting between Black and Scabbers.
"Are you talking about this big dog waving a knife around? Or..."
Morrin raised his hand and snapped his fingers lightly at the rat in Ron's arms.
Zzz—!!!
"Squeak-roar—!!!"
Scabbers suddenly let out a horrific scream, bounced out of Ron's arms, and rolled on the ground in pain. The silver collar on its neck lit up with a blinding red light.
"You see, Ron." Morrin looked at the rat with a smile. "The gift I gave you is of pretty good quality, isn't it? It can not only track location but also... forcibly cancel an Animagustransformation."
"What?!"
In the horrified gazes of everyone, Morrin's wand pointed sharply at the rat on the ground.
[Gate of Truth]—Forced Restoration.
"Reveal your true form."
A blinding blue-white light struck Scabbers.
The rat's body began to twist and expand. The squealing turned into a man's groan.
A few seconds later.
A short, fat man with a pointy, rat-like nose lay on the ground. One of his hands was missing a finger.
Peter Pettigrew.
"Oh my god..." Hermione covered her mouth.
"Peter?!" Ron was so scared he nearly fainted.
Black and Lupin's eyes turned red instantly. Black roared as he lunged forward: "I'm going to kill you! Peter!"
"Control your emotions, Mr. Black."
Morrin's wand barred Black's path.
A seemingly light block, yet it was like an iron gate, forcibly stopping the crazed Sirius.
[Half-Giant Strength] made it impossible for Black to move even an inch.
"What are you doing? White!" Black roared. "He is a traitor! He is a Death Eater!"
"I know." Morrin said indifferently. "But this rat is now my 'witness'. If you kill it now, you will never clear your name in this lifetime, and the House of Black vault will remain frozen by the Ministry of Magic."
Morrin turned his head to look at Peter, who was shivering on the ground.
"Long time no see, Mr. Pettigrew."
Morrin crouched down, the [Dragon Might] making it impossible for Peter to breathe.
"I heard you are very good at running away? Even willing to blow up a street of Muggles?"
Peter burst into tears and crawled toward Harry: "Harry! I am your father's friend... that madman wants to kill me..."
"Stay away from him." Morrin kicked Peter over.
He stood up, looking at Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the two Marauders of the previous generation.
Chapter 70: The Out-of-Control Moon and the "Shutdown" Werewolf
"The situation is clear now."
Morrin pronounced like a judge:
"Peter is the traitor. Black was framed. And Harry…"
Morrin glanced at the savior, whose face was full of shock and whose worldview was being reconstructed.
"...You almost killed the wrong person just now."
"No… this is impossible…" Harry looked at Peter's ugly face, his stomach churning.
Just then, a shadow suddenly appeared on the floor.
Professor Snape, who had been following behind wearing the invisibility cloak, revealed himself.
"Very brilliant deduction, White."
Snape pointed at Black and Lupin with a gloomy face, his wand trembling slightly.
"But that doesn't change the fact that they once tried to get me killed. And…" Snape looked at Morrin with disgust, "Did you know all along? Have you been using my potion to help this Werewolf?"
"This is called resource integration, Professor." Morrin was not afraid of Snape's anger.
"Since everyone is here."
Morrin clapped his hands.
"We can start talking about business."
He walked up to Peter, the tip of his cane pressing against Peter's throat.
"Peter Pettigrew. I am giving you two choices now."
Morrin's voice was like a devil's contract:
"First, I hand you over to the Dementors. They will be very happy to suck out your soul, leaving nothing behind."
"Second, you sign this 'confession' and spit out all the intelligence in your head regarding Lord Voldemort's resurrection."
"Of course, in exchange…"
Morrin glanced at Black, who had a complex look in his eyes nearby.
"Mr. Sirius Black. To celebrate your innocence, I think… you wouldn't mind entrusting those idle vaults of the House of Black at Gringotts to the 'White Investment Company' to manage, would you?"
Black was stunned.
He looked at the Slytherin boy and suddenly felt that compared to Lord Voldemort, this child with a head full of business seemed even more unfathomable.
"As long as I can kill him…" Black gritted his teeth, "Take all the vaults!"
"Deal."
Morrin showed a brilliant smile.
"System." He recited silently in his heart.
[Target detected: Sirius Black]
[Target detected: Peter Pettigrew]
[Target detected: Remus Lupin]
[Draw count: 15]
"All in." Morrin looked at these three "Marauders".
"I want to pack up and take away all the talents on you."
[Drawing...]
[Congratulations on obtaining trait]: Animagus Talent (Purple · from Black/Peter)
[Congratulations on obtaining trait]: Werewolf Curse Resistance (Blue · from Lupin)
[Congratulations on obtaining trait]: Gryffindor Bravery (Purple · from Black)
Morrin felt the surging power in his body and looked at the full moon about to rise outside the window.
"The only variable is that moon."
Morrin glanced at Lupin.
Although he had taken the potion, transformation was inevitable in this emotionally agitated state.
"Harry." Morrin suddenly called out.
"What?"
"Hold on to your wand." Morrin looked at the moonlight outside the window, "The real trouble is just beginning now."
On the lawn outside the Shrieking Shack, the full moon rose.
Everything happened too quickly.
The moment that pale full moon emerged from behind the clouds, Remus Lupin's body froze.
The hand that had been gripping Peter Pettigrewloosened, and his whole body began to tremble violently.
"Run!" Black shouted, his face pale, not even bothering to catch the fleeing rat, "He forgot to take the potion! He didn't take the potion tonight!"
"No, he took it."
Morrin White stood not far away, his expression still terrifyingly calm.
He was still holding the Alchemy Compass, watching the red dot representing Peter fleeing frantically toward the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
"It's just… the moonlight tonight is too 'intense'."
Lupin let out a shrill howl.
His limbs began to elongate, his head deformed, and his spine arched.
The formerly gentle Professor was turning into a bloodthirsty monster.
"Awooo—!!!"
A huge, bipedal Werewolf appeared before everyone.
There was no longer a shred of reason in its yellow eyes, only pure desire for slaughter.
It turned its head and looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were closest to it.
"Harry! Run!" Black transformed into a huge Black dog and lunged at the Werewolf, trying to block it.
But this Werewolf was stronger than ever, perhaps because Morrin's potion, while suppressing the toxicity, had also strengthened its physique.
The Black dog was swatted away by the Werewolf, crashing heavily into the trunk of the Whomping Willowwith a whimper.
The Werewolf opened its bloody maw and lunged at Harry.
Harry raised his wand, his mind blank.
"Shutdown."
A voice without emotion rang out.
There was no light from a spell.
Morrin White just raised his hand and snapped his fingers crisply.
Snap.
The Werewolf, currently in mid-air in a pouncing stance, suddenly spasmed violently, as if its bones had been removed.
Immediately after, a shocking scene occurred.
The Werewolf let out a painful whimper.
A strange blue light suddenly welled up in its eyes, which had been full of murderous intent.
That was the color of the alchemy potion.
All the [wolfsbane potion (White special edition)] and [nanoscale magic lock] that Morrin had provided to Lupin over the past year contained a special type of alchemy particle mixed inside.
Morrin had been guarding against this day long ago. He would not keep such a dangerous creature by his side without taking any safety measures.
"This is the price of a free trial, Professor." Morrin looked at the Werewolf, which was rolling on the ground in pain and could no longer attack anyone, and said indifferently:
"As long as I want, I can detonate the magic circuits in your blood at any time, forcing you to switch from 'Berserk Mode' to 'Paralysis Mode'."
The Werewolf lay on the ground, limbs twitching; although it was still roaring, it no longer had the strength to even stand up.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at this scene in horror.
They looked at the fallen Werewolf, then at Morrin, who stood in the moonlight with an indifferent expression.
"You…" Hermione said tremblingly, "What did you do to him? Did you poison the potion?"
"That is a safety valve, Miss Granger." Morrin adjusted his cuffs, "To prevent my 'user' from harming innocent bystanders due to improper operation."
Just then, a slight rustle came from the grass in the distance.
Peter Pettigrew took advantage of the chaos, transformed into a rat, and burrowed into the grass.
"Damn it! Peter ran away!" Harry shouted.
"He can't run."
Morrin did not give chase.
He just glanced at the direction of the escape, which was the direction of the Black Lake.