Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 288 Delivering Messages

"What news did you just mention that would make Mr. Peter, who faked his death for thirteen years, resurrect and actively seek out his former enemy?"

Snape asked expressionlessly, the magic of his deafening voice emanating from him.

News about Sirius Black.

“I hope that the Death Eater who committed the unforgivable crime will pay the price, because his betrayal led to the misfortune of James and Lily.”

“I know you don’t care about James, but you and Lily are friends, and I think you can’t stand him getting away with it either.”

Peter Pettigrew calmed down, and a look of sadness appeared in his two mouse eyes:

"Just consider it helping Lily out; it's easy for you."

“You may have forgotten, but I am also a Death Eater,” Snape said with a sneer.

"But you're not anymore."

Peter avoided his gaze, looking at the clear wine glass on the table, its exterior covered in indelible grease.
"Whatever the reason, you were not put on trial and became the Potions Professor at Hogwarts. Dumbledore is willing to believe you, and so am I."

"I did indeed make some deals with Dumbledore..."

Snape then changed the subject, "But that doesn't mean I'll help you. Lily and I... don't have any deep feelings for each other."

Under the table, Peter's right hand, missing its index finger, quietly clenched, yet his face still wore a sorrowful expression:
"Can't we just treat this as a way to commemorate the dead and help our deceased friends?"

"This is the Hog's Head Bar. The place where they are buried is in Godric's Valley. It's been thirteen years since the last Wizarding War, and fifteen years since we graduated. You're still the same as when you were in school, always hiding behind others."

Snape sneered, "Wake up, I'm not going to do anything for you."

"No, you will... I once thought I would never mention them again, never go near Hogwarts again, to avoid thinking about them again. I always uncontrollably think that if I hadn't gone out on a mission that night, maybe James and Lily wouldn't have died."

Peter feigned sadness: "But when I heard about Black's escape, I couldn't help but worry that he would hurt Harry, just like that night in Godric's Hollow thirteen years ago, so I came anyway."

"Since you brought it up..."

Snape asked quietly, "I am indeed very curious, why did the hero who captured Black last time, the one who received the Order of Merlin, fake his death and escape, and live in anonymity for so many years?"

Peter was silent for a moment before giving a half-truth: "I'm worried about retaliation, retaliation from the pure-blood families, retaliation from the remnants of the Death Eaters."

"Although the Black family is gone, the pure-blood families are deeply intertwined, and they are all relatives. There are also Death Eaters who escaped trial. Compared to accepting those honors and praises, I care more about my own safety."

He let out a couple of feigned sobs, "The tragedy of the Longbottoms is a precedent; poor Frank and Alice, thankfully Merlin protected them."

"Stop your pretentious act and get to the bottom of it!" Snape felt nauseous at his ridiculous behavior and worried about his own safety, which was why he had abandoned his elderly grandmother.

The thumping sound of the stairs came from the back of the tavern. The two alert men turned around at the same time, their right hands already reaching for their wands in their pockets, ready to unleash a spell – a testament to the professionalism of Death Eater spies.

But this was just normal noise in the tavern. The tall, goatee-wearing bar owner came down from upstairs, carrying two oak barrels. His bright blue eyes swept across the lobby, warning anyone who made any trouble.

Pig Head Bar caters to all sorts of guests who don't want to reveal their identities, and the bar owner is always up to no good.

Peter picked up his glass, took a sip, just enough to moisten his lips, and didn't drink it.
"The Ministry of Magic has dispatched hundreds of Dementors to surround Hogwarts and patrol Hogsmeade. Three squads of Aurors from the Department of Executions are stationed there. Wizards throughout the wizarding world are searching for Sirius Black, but no one has found any trace of him. Don't you want to know why?"

"You know anything about the Ministry of Magic?"

Snape raised an eyebrow, not pressing for details: "What's the reason? Remus Lupin is his mole?"

"Remus is now a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, your colleague, personally hired by Headmaster Dumbledore, so there's no problem."

“The Defense Against the Dark Arts professors that Dumbledore chooses always have problems every year,” Snape said quietly.

“Remus is a member of the Order of the Phoenix. If he had problems, they would have been exposed more than a decade ago, instead of waiting until now.” Peter swirled his wine glass.

“Peter, I don’t want to argue with you about these irrelevant characters. We’re talking about Blake now.”

The liquor in the glasses was burning, and orange sparks flew and hit the inner glass wall. The flames of whiskey made the two people's cheeks flush red, which, combined with the dim lighting in the store, made it look somewhat eerie.

By plugging his ears, even the whispers of the nearby wizards became muffled, leaving only the two sitting opposite each other. Peter lowered his two mouse-like eyes:

“Black is a hidden Animagus, a black dog that can transform without a wand. He can fool Dementors and Aurors and sneak into schools unnoticed.”

A flicker of realization crossed Snape's eyes, but his expression remained cold: "Why didn't you relay such important news to the Ministry of Magic? Why didn't you tell Dumbledore? Why did you choose me?"

"Fudge is now in charge of the Ministry of Magic, and he's getting too close to Malfoy and his cronies. I don't know his stance. As for Dumbledore..."

Peter paused briefly, then shook his head. "Right now, I just want a quiet, peaceful life. I don't want to go back to those days of constant fear with the Order of the Phoenix, nor do I want to be suspected by Dumbledore, after all, I've been gone for thirteen years..."

“You know, wizards like them don’t trust anyone,” Peter added at the end. “If possible, I hope you can keep this a secret and not mention me to anyone else.”

Snape frowned slightly, silently processing these words without refuting or agreeing.

Timid and cowardly, always trying to hide when faced with trouble, this certainly fits the impression Peter Pettigrew gives.

"By the way, is there any news about Blake at school?"

Peter asked tentatively, "Black won't let Harry go. He must have tried. If you keep an eye on Harry, you can find Black's trail."

"He certainly tried. He broke into Hogwarts last weekend, and I almost ripped his heart out, but Lupin interfered and let him escape."

Snape uttered a cold voice.

“If cutting open his heart can be a sacrifice for them…” Peter sniffed and sobbed, “then I hope you will do it.”

"Don't expect me to do anything for you."

Snape collected all his thoughts and resumed his indifferent expression. "Don't try to guess what I'm thinking. You'd better pray that I'm in a good mood lately, or I'll expose your existence to the Ministry of Magic."

Peter immediately fell silent, like a mouse being choked.

Snape picked up his medicine box and stood up. Before leaving, he glanced at the table and his gaze fell on the glass. The flaming whiskey inside had burned out, and after removing the evaporated water, the liquid level had barely dropped.

There was no chance to administer the true medicine.

The Potions professor left the tavern without a word. Peter silently watched the hem of his flowing robes. Compared to his student days, this snotty-nosed boy had matured a lot; he was no longer the pathetic teenager hanging in mid-air, his underwear showing.

A Death Eater who escaped trial, a Potions Master—what a prestigious title.

But these powerful wizards are all pretty much the same. When they see him feigning cowardice and timidity, and even unwilling to hide the contempt on his face, they end up being deceived by him and paying the price for their contempt.

To be honest, he actually misses the days when he was a raider.

……

The three brooms were also at their peak during the peak customer season, and the flames in the fireplace burned brightly and dazzlingly.

Despite the fact that the sky was still overcast after the ravages of the storms of the past few days, the weather was pleasant for the wizards of the Scottish Highlands, and the residents of Hogsmeade and the students of Hogwarts were enjoying the weekend.

The hall was now packed with drinkers.

Some Quidditch fans were talking about yesterday's College match. Many wizards wanted to talk to Lady Rosmerta, so they gathered around the bar, talking loudly and showing off, making quite a racket.

Harry and his friends sat down in a corner near the bar, and the seats next to them were quickly filled up.

Hermione and he each ordered a butterbeer and a serving of fries. The two of them stayed at their seats to reserve the place, so they didn't have to go to the bar to get their food. Ron volunteered to help, making it his own portion, and he made three trips by himself.

They were delighted and enjoyed it immensely.

Minister Fudge was discussing the Ministry of Magic's security measures, which included sending more Aurors to guard the villages and deploying senior wizards from Azkaban to command the Dementors.

Upon hearing this, the wizards near the bar all turned their heads away, their faces showing disdain.

Over the weekend, a professor went out shopping and discussed some things with the shop owners.

News of Hogwarts spread quickly, especially in the taverns where patrons and fans gathered. It had already spread that Dementors had stormed the school and tried to kill the boy who had miraculously survived, causing Gryffindor to lose the match.

Based on the timeline, the Ministry of Magic's mailboxes should have been overflowing with Howl letters by this time.

These were all warm greetings from the wizarding community, but unfortunately, the minister couldn't hear them.

Minister Fudge came to the tavern at this time to appease the wizards' anger and explain the measures they had proposed after their emergency meeting: the Dementors were brought under control, and more Aurors were stationed in the village to form an absolutely reliable patrol team.

"...Don't even mention the Death Eater Sirius Black, even Black...his master is back, and Hogsmeade is absolutely safe and sound."

Fudge thumped his chest loudly as the cocktail personally mixed by the bar owner was handed to him, causing him to stumble slightly, but it did not diminish his boundless pride.

When Lady Rosmerta handed him the wine, she smiled at him; the witch must be infatuated with him!
“I heard that Headmaster Dumbledore, in his capacity as Chief of Wizengamot, has lodged a written protest demanding that Dementors be kept away from Hogwarts, not even in the airspace, and that they be kept at least 500 feet away from the school.”

"That's what Ms. Rosmerta said softly from behind the bar."

These words shattered Fudge's romanticized notions, forcing him to confront harsh reality.

Dumbledore did submit a written protest to the Ministry of Magic, but considering the safety of all Hogwarts students and staff, as well as the opinions of parents and the Board of Governors, he firmly rejected it.

Unfortunately, the Dementors wouldn't listen.

Those inhuman dark creatures suddenly became enlightened. As if cursed, they actually developed fear. No matter how the Aurors of Azkaban tried to communicate with them, they refused to approach Hogwarts airspace and avoided it during patrols.

"The Dementors feared Professor Levent's Patronus Charm and dared not approach Hogwarts, nor dared they offend the students in their school uniforms."

Lady Rosmerta glanced at him and chuckled, saying, "If you ask me, Professor Levent or Headmaster Dumbledore should perform this in the village, so that those Dementors won't dare approach Hogsmeade."

Fudge slowly sipped his cocktail, his face grim as if he had swallowed a fly: "Arranging for Dementors to patrol is to protect the safety of the residents and avoid danger. You know, Sirius Black is ruthless and could launch an attack at any time."

"The Dementors are also ruthless and could launch an attack at any time."

Ms. Rosmerta looked disgusted. “Those guys start loitering around the neighborhood in the evening, and we can’t do business. Mr. Froome’s candy isn’t selling.”

Fudge opened his mouth, looking somewhat embarrassed: "Regarding Headmaster Dumbledore's letter and the Dementors, I will clarify in the Prophet's News later. Under normal circumstances, Dementors do not attack residents randomly. If you see those cloaked monsters approaching, just avoid them in advance, and no one will get hurt."

"What if someone like Potter faints upon encountering it?"

"Kids are timid."

"This is danger!"

"..."

On the round table near the corner behind me, a little over half of the butterbeer had been drunk, and the foam was flowing down the inner wall.

The three little ones kept their heads down and didn't move, worried that they would disturb the patrons and be recognized as the boy who had miraculously survived.

Through the conversation between the tavern owner and the minister, we can vaguely piece together the story of how the headmaster put pressure on the Ministry of Magic, leaving the minister furious but helpless. The three students felt deeply proud, while only Harry's feelings were particularly complicated.

Unexpectedly, news of his fear of Dementors spread not only at school but also became a topic of conversation with drinks in Hogsmeade. Although many wizards were on his side, his cowardice had become a common understanding.

He wants to become an Auror after he graduates!
In the past, most wizards perceived him as a boy who bravely faced Voldemort, but now he is seen as a boy who was frightened unconscious by Dementors.

"..."

Harry was very unsettled.

Hermione, standing beside her, remained silent, unconsciously clenching her fists.

It was through Ms. Rosmerta's words that she learned that the relationship between the school and the Ministry of Magic had become so strained, with power struggles and mutual antagonism.

It's clear that Minister Fookie came to power with the principal's support.

Just a few years ago, they were known as the principal's ally and mouthpiece.

Ron, standing in the other direction, held a butterbeer and pretended to focus his gaze on the hop foam, but in reality, he was occasionally glancing at Ms. Rosmerta's pretty face and curvaceous figure.

The round table was quiet, and the atmosphere was peaceful.

(End of this chapter)