HP Star Shining

"I should have thought of these suspicious points at the time. That motorcycle was his favorite thing, so why would he give it to me? He asked me to ride it to send Harry away. The fact is that it would be too easy for the Ministry of Magic to trace it."

It turned out that Hagrid's flying motorcycle was given to him by Sirius. Su Xingchen nodded secretly. She didn't know all this before. It seems that eavesdropping is still very beneficial.

"Fortunately, I remembered Dumbledore's instructions and didn't listen to Black and hand Harry over to him. Who knows if he would have thrown the child into the sea? His best friend's son... Once a wizard joins the forces of darkness, he really doesn't care about anything else."

After Hagrid finished speaking, there was a long silence at the table.

Madam Rosmerta said with a hint of satisfaction: "Fortunately he didn't escape. The Ministry of Magic caught him the next day."

"Well, it would be great if it were us." Fudge's tone was a little bitter. "It was Peter Pettigrew, another friend of the Potters. He knew Black was the Secret Keeper, so he went after him himself."

That's right! That mouse is Pettigrew's.

Because he knew that she was afraid (actually she hated it), Ron rarely took out Scabbers in front of her, causing her to almost forget about this guy.

"Petiger... that little chubby boy who always follows Black and Potter around like a dog?" asked Madam Rosmerta.

"He treated Potter and Black like heroes." Professor McGonagall's voice sounded as if she had a cold. "In terms of talent, they were never on the same level. I was very harsh on him back then... I regret it now."

"Well, Minerva, Pettigrew died a heroic death. He blocked Black's path. I was Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Disasters at the time, and I was one of the first people to arrive on the scene. I'll never forget that scene. I still dream about it sometimes. A huge crater had been blown in the middle of the street, so deep that it burst the sewers. There were corpses everywhere, Muggles were crying and wailing, and Black was standing there laughing. All that was left of Pettigrew in front of him was... a pile of bloodstained robes and some debris."

Fudge's words were suddenly interrupted because he heard the sound of someone next to him wiping his nose.

"That's how it was, Rosmerta," he went on. "Black was eventually taken away by twenty members of the Magical Reconnaissance Squad, and he's been imprisoned in Azkaban ever since. Pettigrew was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I hope is some consolation to his poor mother."

Madam Rosmerta sighed deeply, and the others continued their conversation about whether Blake was truly insane or not, and how to catch him.

Putting aside the wrong characters, this was the first time Su Xingchen heard the complete story of Sirius, Pettigrew, James and Lily.

She couldn't help but fall into a trance. Why do bad guys always get away with it, even get honors and praise, while good people are imprisoned and don't have a good end?

The Order of Merlin, First Class, is someone like Pettigrew worthy of it?

Does the story have to develop in this way?

She had already experienced how terrifying Dementors were, and she couldn't imagine what kind of belief Sirius had relied on to persevere through all these years and successfully escape from Azkaban?

She turned to look at Harry, who seemed to have turned into a sculpture. Knowing that he was now overwhelmed by the huge amount of information, she couldn't help but hold his hand, as if to give him strength, but in fact she was suppressing the urge to tell him, "You have a godfather who loves you very much."

After a while, several pairs of feet in front of the two men supported the weight of their masters again, the hems of their robes fluttering, and Madam Rosmerta's shiny high heels "clicked" as she walked towards the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks was opened again, and after a gust of wind and snow, the professors and Fudge disappeared.

"Harry?"

Ron and Hermione's faces immediately appeared under the table, staring at him blankly, somewhat bewildered.

Harry didn't know how he got back to Honeydukes' cellar, or how he got from the cellar through the passage back to the castle. He only remembered that someone was holding his hand, and when he heard someone say "Have a good rest" to him, he looked around and found himself in the dormitory.

The dormitory was empty, as the other students who had gone to Hogsmeade had not yet returned.

His mind was buzzing with thoughts of what he had heard. Why hadn't anyone told him?

Not one of them, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, or Cornelius Fudge, mentioned that his parents were murdered because of betrayal by their best friends.

Harry walked straight to his bedside table, opened the drawer, and quickly found what he was looking for.

The leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given him two years ago.

He sat on the bed, drew the curtains, and began to read page by page.

found it!

In the photo, Dad is waving with a cheerful face, his messy black hair inherited from him standing up in ridges. Mom looks radiant, holding Dad's arm happily.

It must be him, the best man next to them.

He had never thought that this person was Blake. He was not as sallow and sunken as the wanted poster, but was very handsome and had a sweet smile.

Harry stared at that handsome face and couldn't help wondering: when this picture was taken, had Sirius already been serving Voldemort? Behind that smiling face, was he plotting the deaths of two friends who considered him a confidant? Did he even imagine that the next twelve years in Azkaban would completely change him?

He slammed the album shut and stuffed it into the drawer.

Then he took off his glasses, took off his robe, lay on the bed, and pulled the curtains tightly to ensure that people outside could not see inside at all.

After he did all this, the dormitory door opened.

"Harry?" Ron's voice was hesitant.

Harry didn't move, pretending to be asleep. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now.

Hearing Ron leave, he turned over and lay on his back in bed, staring at the bed curtains above his head with wide eyes.

An unprecedented feeling of hatred flowed through my body like poison.

He seemed to see Black laughing at him in the darkness, and to see him blast Peter Pettigrew to pieces, and to hear him whisper excitedly, "It worked, Master. The Potters have made me their Secret-Keeper."

Then came the shrill, manic laugh of another voice, the same laugh he heard whenever the Dementors were near him.

Harry fell asleep towards dawn.

When he woke up, he found no one in the dormitory.

He got dressed and walked down the spiral staircase. The lounge was empty except for his three good friends.

Ron was rubbing his belly and eating mint toad candy, Hermione had spread her homework all over three tables, and Xingchen was squatting in front of the stove petting the cat.

"Harry, you...you look very ugly." Ron's voice attracted the attention of Hermione and Su Xingchen.

"Where's everyone?" Harry asked.

"Let's go. Today is the first day of vacation. Have you forgotten?" Ron looked at him carefully. "It's almost noon. I was just about to call you for lunch."