"Yeah, that's right!" Ron also said furiously, "Do you think I want others saying my sister is—"
"What is it?" Ginny shouted, pulling out her magic wand, "What is it, speak clearly!"
"He's just talking casually, Ginny—" Harry said as if to mediate, but didn't really oppose Ron's words.
"Hmph, that's exactly what he thinks!" She suddenly turned her anger toward Harry, "Just because he's never cuddled with anyone in his life, just because our Aunt Muriel was the only one who ever kissed him—"
"Shut up!" Ron yelled, his face turning from red to purple.
"No, I won't shut up!" Ginny said madly, "I've seen you clinging to her, every time you see her, you're eagerly hoping she'll kiss your face, it's pathetic! If you were also cuddling with someone, you wouldn't care so much about what others are doing!"
Ron was extremely angry; he never thought his sister's mouth could be so sharp, and he drew his own magic wand.
Harry hurriedly stepped between them.
"Stop arguing!"
Just as he said this, thunder suddenly roared above—how could it thunder after it just snowed?
"Do you even know what nonsense you're talking!" Ron shouted.
Harry stretched out his arm to block Ron, preventing him from impulsively cursing Ginny, but Ron was trying to get around Harry to give his good sister a solid evil curse.
Ginny let out a sharp laugh and pushed Harry aside.
"You've hidden a photo of Aunt Muriel under your pillow? Oh, I remember now, you did have a companion—your rat, Banban, right? I recall you even slept together, heaven knows how many times I've seen you kiss your rat, but in fact, it was a bald old man in disguise, wasn't it?"
"You—"
A beam of orange light shot out from under Harry's left arm, missing Ginny by inches.
"You're agitated, Ronald!"
Though her sharp tongue worked wonders, Ginny still felt extremely wronged, tears welling in her eyes, and she cried: "Everyone has had someone to be close with; your good buddy Harry has had four girlfriends, but you don't blame him, nitpicking your sister instead—just because I'm your sister, should I be bossed around by you?"
But Ron had clearly lost his mind.
"Everyone calm down, arguing won't solve anything!" Harry felt his head bursting, wondering what's up with Ginny, can't the siblings argue without dragging me into this?
What does this have to do with me?
"I don't want to talk to you anymore!" Ginny cried out, "Only someone with less experience than a twelve-year-old would think being close to others is disgusting!"
Saying this, she spun and ran away.
"Mate." Harry reached out and patted Ron on the shoulder, "Let's go eat something, what do you say?"
Ron was still furious, but he didn't take it out on Harry.
"How can she say that about me!" Ron's face turned crimson, "I am her brother! It's not my fault about the dead rat; if anything, the entire Weasley family is tied to that rat, she's not just blaming me! She's blaming our whole family!"
"It's not your fault, really." Harry could only try to console him, "Come on, let's get something to eat, some dessert, lighten the mood a bit."
He pulled Ron along towards the hall, planning to order some desserts to eat.
But even after eating dessert, Ron still felt extremely hurt.
"What's up with you?"
Hermione returning from the library saw a disheartened Ron, and asked curiously.
Harry quietly described to Hermione what had just happened, not forgetting to use his eyes to hint at Hermione.
Hermione opened her mouth, eventually sighed: "This is something I can't really comment on, but I support you, Ron."
"Really?" Ron suddenly lifted his head, with light in his eyes, "You also think she was wrong, right?"
"No, I'm discussing my stance, not the facts." Hermione crossed her hands and placed them on the table.
But that was enough; even without Hermione giving a definite answer, Ron felt it was enough—at least both Harry and Hermione supported him.
Of course, Harry...well, hadn't stated his support for him.
Feeling reassured, Ron polished off the desserts on the table, satisfiedly burping, rubbing his belly, seemingly unbothered by his sister's situation.
Harry glanced at Ron, then at Hermione.
Actually, these two were a great match, he thought, practically meant for each other.
Back in the dormitory at night, Harry dialed Little Sirius's number.
"Harry?" Little Sirius appeared energetic, "You finally found time to call your godfather, haha—look, Jemma has started working at the British Ministry of Magic... Jemma? Come say hi to Harry."
Beside him, Jemma reached out and greeted Harry.
"Hello, Miss Fari." Harry nodded to Miss Fari, still pondering—when Miss Fari marries Little Sirius, she'll gain another life.
He himself was alright, not being very familiar with Miss Fari anyway.
But... Viyi was in an awkward spot.
When Miss Fari was Viyi's secretary, they were good friends.
And now, good friends had become nearly inseparable...
After some small talk, Harry finally got to the point.
"By the way, Little Sirius." Harry's tone became serious, "Yesterday, we encountered an incident; Gryffindor's Katie Bell received a mysterious package from a dark wizard at the Three Broomsticks Bar, inside was a dark magic item... of course, the latter part isn't important, what's important is the beginning... according to Katie's description, the person who gave her the package seems to be Peter Pettigrew."
Upon hearing Harry's words, Little Sirius frowned and retorted: "Impossible, absolutely impossible! Isn't Peter Pettigrew already dead? I saw him die with my own eyes last year!"
"But that's the situation." Harry spread his hands and said, "Katie's description fits Peter Pettigrew, and we can't find anyone else matching the description... maybe Voldemort used some dark magic to resurrect Peter Pettigrew?"
"Resurrection isn't that simple." Little Sirius rubbed his eyelids, "The magic potion materials and dark magic required are all rare materials or advanced spells; I don't think Voldemort would waste these on Peter Pettigrew, it doesn't make sense... if he wanted to resurrect, weren't the dark wizards who escaped last time better materials?"
"You make a good point." Harry nodded, rubbing his chin, "Then the question arises: what if Voldemort really made a couple of miscalculations?"
"It's possible." Little Sirius nodded slightly, then said, "Alright, I'll urge the relevant departments to conduct nationwide checks for traces of Peter Pettigrew and other dark wizards... additionally, we must enhance Azkaban's defenses..."
As he spoke, Miss Fari had pulled out a notebook from somewhere and was jotting things down.
See, that's professionalism.
Harry thought, frankly, just wipe out all the inmates in Azkaban, save the worry of them escaping with Voldemort's help.
After all, those who end up in Azkaban are typically heinous criminals; at worst, use Mind Reading before acting, just to check the essence?