Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 419 You've Only Kissed Peter Pettigrew

The strength of that vine stump was so great that Harry felt like his arm was about to be bitten off.

Neville reacted quickly, grabbing some of the vines that were trying to wrap around Harry's arms, and yelled at Hermione and Ron, "Don't just stand there! Come help!"

The two, realizing what had happened, reached out to pull at the remaining vines, and it took them quite a while to force the tree stump to open its mouth again.

Harry finally managed to free his arm, clutching a pod the size of an orange.

Instantly, all the thorny vines retreated inside, and the knotted, broken roots lay there quietly, like a lifeless piece of dead wood.

"Ugh, when I have my own house someday, I don't want to plant these things in my garden." Ron said, pushing his protective goggles up to his forehead and wiping the sweat from his face.

Harry pulled a bowl over from the side and put the pod that was beating like a heart into it.

“Oh.” Hermione gave a dismissive look. “It really does look like a heart, doesn’t it? I bet it’s still alive—”

“That’s your imagination, Hermione,” Harry replied. “It just looks like a beating heart, but actually…”

"Don't hold back, squeeze out the juice while it's fresh, it'll be of the best quality!" Professor Sprout suddenly shouted, interrupting Harry.

“Let me do it,” Neville suggested. He pressed the pod with his hands, which were covered in dragon skin gloves. No one knew how he did it, but he first pierced the pod with scissors, and then, as if using a clever trick, squeezed all the juice out of the pod into the bowl.

The juice inside the pod looked rather disgusting. If you looked closely into the bowl, the light green juice was full of wriggling little bumps that looked like caterpillars.

“Disgusting,” Hermione commented again. “I regret choosing herbalism as a required course. I knew I would be dealing with all sorts of strange plants, just like Professor Scamander’s magical zoology.”

“Speaking of which, Newt was very upset,” Harry said with a shrug. “Because some of us didn’t choose the Magical Creatures Protection class, he even wrote a letter to Pappy crying about it…”

“How could I not know?” Ron said, reaching into the stump and pulling out another pod, which he handed to Neville.

“It’s a good thing you don’t know,” Harry said, shaking his head. “It’s really our fault for making an honest man like Newt sad…”

"So you're planning to take the Magical Creatures Protection class?" Hermione asked, glancing sideways.

“Oh, no.” Harry handed the scissors to Neville, watching him pierce the pod and squeeze out the disgusting juice. “To be honest, I didn’t really want to take that course either. I remember the Blasttails he and Hagrid were messing around with, which seemed to be a favorite of the Ministry of Magic. Sirius even gave them some special funding to crossbreed Blasttails, as if they could be very useful in some way.”

"Bombtail?" Ron's expression turned sour as soon as he heard the name.

He still remembers the distinctive stench of those fried snails, which lingered for a long time after being blown by the wind; it was truly unbearable.

"What, you like frizzy-tailed snails?" Hermione turned her head.

“No, I don’t like it.” Ron fought off the urge to gag. “I just remember the stench of those slugs… Remember when Professor Scamander was away? Hagrid actually made us take care of those things. I don’t want that to happen again someday!”

Hearing Ron say this, Hermione immediately agreed.

Before the end of get out of class, they earned five points for Gryffindor.

Hermione had to go to the library, and Neville was going to the Owlshaw to mail a letter to his grandmother, so only Ron and Harry remained in the Gryffindor common room.

But when they reached the third floor, they suddenly saw Ginny and Dean Thomas embracing and kissing passionately in the distance.

Harry turned to look at Ron and saw that Ron was already red-hot.

Seeing his younger sister hugging another man is a depressing experience for any brother.

Ron wasn't a sister-obsessed brother, but there had been too many rumors circulating about Ginny at school lately.

"Hey!" he yelled in annoyance.

The two separated abruptly, looking around. When Ginny saw it was Ron, she was somewhat displeased.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Ron said angrily, "I don't want to see my own sister hugging and kissing someone else in public!"

"There was no one in this corridor to begin with; you just barged in!" Ginny said dismissively.

Dean was a little embarrassed. He smiled at Ron and Harry, and Harry returned the smile, but Ron glared at him rudely.

“Hmm… let’s go, Ginny,” Dean said, “let’s go back to the common room…”

"You go on your way!" Ginny said. "I need to say a few words to my dear brother!"

Dean slunk away, seemingly eager to leave the place as soon as possible.

After all, with Ron watching from the sidelines, even if he wanted to do something else, he had to consider his girlfriend's brother's feelings.

After Dean left, Ginny finally snapped.

“Fine,” she said, tossing her long red hair across her face and glaring angrily at Ron, “let’s get this straight. Ron, who I’m friends with, what I do with them, is none of your business—”

“Yes, that’s right!” Ron said angrily. “You think I want people to say my sister is—”

"What is it?" Ginny shouted, drawing her wand. "What is it? Explain yourself!"

“He was just saying it casually, Ginny—” Harry said, but he wasn’t really against Ron’s words.

“Hmph, that’s exactly what he thinks!” she suddenly snapped at Harry. “Just because he’s never hugged or kissed anyone in his life, just because he’s only ever been kissed by our Aunt Muriel—”

“Shut up!” Ron roared, his face turning from red to a deep purple.

“No, I won’t shut up!” Ginny said frantically. “I’ve seen you clinging to her, and every time you see her you’re longing for her to kiss your cheek. It’s pathetic! If you hugged and cuddled with other people yourself, you wouldn’t care so much about what others are doing!”

Ron was absolutely furious. He never imagined his sister could be so venomous. He drew his wand as well.

Harry quickly stepped between them.

"Stop arguing!" He had just finished speaking when thunder suddenly sounded in the sky—it had just snowed, so why was there thunder?

“Do you know what nonsense you’re spouting!” Ron yelled.

Harry stretched out his arm to block Ron from accidentally hitting Ginny, but Ron wanted to bypass Harry and give his good sister a good curse.

Ginny let out a harsh laugh and shoved Harry away.

"You hid a picture of Aunt Muriel under your pillow? Oh, I remember now, you did have someone you were intimate with, your mouse Scabbers, right? I remember you two used to sleep together, and heaven knows how many times I've seen you kissing your mouse, but it was actually a bald old man in disguise, wasn't it?"

"you--"

A beam of orange light shot out from under Harry's left arm, just inches away from hitting Ginny.

"You're getting impatient, Ronald!"

Although her sharp tongue was surprisingly effective, Ginny was clearly still very aggrieved. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she cried out in a sob, "Everyone has been intimate with other people. Your good brother Harry has four girlfriends, and you don't say anything about that, but you insist on criticizing your sister. Just because I'm your sister, does that mean I should be bossed around by you?"

But Ron had clearly lost his mind.

"Calm down, both of you. Stop arguing. Arguing won't solve anything!" Harry felt like his head was about to explode. What the hell was wrong with Ginny? You two brothers are arguing, why are you dragging me into this?

What business relationship do I have with this?
"I don't want to talk to you anymore!" Ginny cried out. "Only someone as inexperienced as a twelve-year-old would think that interacting with other people is disgusting!"

After saying that, she turned and ran away.

"Dude," Harry patted Ron on the shoulder, "let's get something to eat, what do you say?"

Ron was clearly still angry, but he didn't retaliate against Harry.

“How could she say that to me!” Ron’s face flushed red. “I’m her brother! That dead rat wasn’t my fault. If we’re going to talk about it, the entire Weasley family is involved with that rat. She’s not just blaming me! She’s blaming our whole family!”

“It’s not your fault, brother, really,” Harry could only comfort him. “Let’s go get something to eat, some dessert, to cheer ourselves up.”

He pulled Ron toward the auditorium, intending to order some dessert.

Even after eating dessert, Ron still felt extremely sad.

"What's wrong? What's wrong with you?"

Hermione, returning from the library, saw a dejected Ron and asked him curiously.

Harry whispered a brief account of what had just happened to Hermione, not forgetting to give her subtle hints with his eyes.

Hermione opened her mouth, then sighed and said, "I can't really say for sure, but I support you, Ron."

"Really?" Ron looked up abruptly, his eyes lighting up. "You also think it's wrong to be like her, right?"

“No, I’m discussing positions, not facts.” Hermione placed her hands on the table, folding them over her shoulder.

But that was enough. Even if Hermione didn't give a definite answer, Ron felt it was enough—at least Harry and Hermione were very supportive of him.

Of course, Harry... well, he didn't express his support for him.

Having suddenly regained his composure, Ron devoured all the desserts on the table. He let out a satisfied burp, rubbed his stomach, and seemed completely unconcerned about his sister's condition.

Harry glanced at Ron, then at Hermione.

Actually, he thought the two of them were quite well-matched; they were practically a match made in heaven.

When Harry returned to his dorm that evening, he called Sirius Black.

“Harry?” Sirius looked brimming with energy. “You finally have time to call your godfather, haha—look, Gemma’s already working at the Ministry of Magic… Gemma? Say hello to Harry.”

Gemma, who was next to him, reached out and greeted Harry.

"Hello, Miss Farley." Harry nodded to Miss Farley, thinking to himself—once Miss Farley and Sirius Black get married, she'll be a generation older.

He himself was alright, after all, Miss Farley and he weren't very familiar with each other.

But... but Vivi was in an awkward situation.

When Miss Farley was Vivi's secretary, the two were best friends.

And now, my best friend has become the yeast...

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Harry finally got to the point.

“By the way, Sirius,” Harry said, his expression turning serious. “Yesterday we encountered something. Katie Bell from Gryffindor received a package from a strange dark wizard at the Three Broomsticks pub. Inside was a dark magical item… Of course, the latter part isn’t important, the former is… According to Katie’s description, the person who delivered the package to her seems to be Peter Pettigrew.”

Hearing Harry's words, Sirius frowned and retorted, "Impossible, absolutely impossible! Peter Pettigrew is dead, isn't he? Just last year... I saw him die with my own eyes!"

“But that’s just how it is,” Harry said, spreading his hands. “That’s what Kitty described, and besides Peter Pettigrew, there’s no one else who fits the description… Perhaps Voldemort used some dark magic to bring Peter Pettigrew back to life?”

“Resurrection is not such a simple matter.” Sirius rubbed his eyelids. “The potion ingredients and dark magic required are all rare materials or profound spells. I don’t think Voldemort would waste these things on Peter Pettigrew. It just doesn’t make sense… If he wanted to resurrect, wouldn’t those dark wizards who escaped last time be good materials?”

“You have a point.” Harry nodded, stroking his chin as he asked, “Then the question arises: what if Voldemort really did lose his mind?”

“That possibility cannot be ruled out.” Sirius nodded slightly, then said, “Here’s what we’ll do: I will urge the relevant departments to order them to search for traces of Peter Pettigrew and other dark wizards nationwide… In addition, we will focus on strengthening the defenses of Azkaban…”

He said that Miss Farley had pulled out a small notebook from somewhere and was making notes in it.

Look at that, that's professionalism.

Harry thought to himself, "If you ask me, we should just kill all the prisoners in Azkaban, so we don't have to worry about them escaping with Voldemort's help."

Anyway, those who can get into Azkaban are basically heinous criminals. At worst, we can use Legilimency to test their composition before taking action.
(End of this chapter)