HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

Peter then turned to look at Sagles and Black, his eyes finally settling on Sagles:

“Powerful wizard, you possess unparalleled strength. Please save me. I am willing to be your servant for life. Just say the word and they will all release me. No one will oppose you, right? Say you will let me go.”

Sagles looked at him calmly and said nothing.

“Why don’t you beg me, Peter?” Blake said coldly. “Are you afraid I’ll be unable to resist forgiving you?”

“Oh, Sirius,” Little Pettigrew crawled forward on his knees, his voice low and humble, his hands clasped tightly to his chest as if in prayer, “My friend, there’s obviously some misunderstanding between us, but it’s alright, you’ll forgive me, won’t you? I’m your most loyal friend, you won’t just leave me to die, will you…”

Blake kicked him away, and Pettigrew flinched.

"Don't touch me, my robes are already filthy enough."

Peter was utterly desperate.

He collapsed onto the carpet like a lump of mud, his obese body heaving violently with fear and sobbing.

He looked around, and every face showed only coldness, hatred, and contempt, without a trace of sympathy or wavering.

He knew that his sweet talk and his fawning performance had completely failed.

A deathly silence enveloped the entire lounge, broken only by Peter's heavy, desperate breathing and sobs.

In the suffocating silence, Sirius Black took a step forward.

His voice was unusually calm, yet carried an unwavering resolve, clearly reaching everyone's ears:

"Let's kill him."

Surprisingly, the one who responded to him was the usually mild-mannered Remus Lupin.

He slowly opened his eyes, and those eyes, which were always filled with weariness and kindness, were now filled with only a cold, icy light.

He met Blake's gaze, and without the slightest hesitation, uttered a single word with utmost conciseness and clarity:

"it is good."

Chapter 226 Fudge: Are you trying to trick me into thinking I'm Japanese?

Black's wand was already raised, and Lupin's hand was on his own wand.

Peter Pettigrew collapsed to the ground, a desperate sob stuck in his throat, leaving only heavy, fearful breathing.

"and many more!"

A firm voice rang out, abruptly breaking the suffocating silence.

Everyone turned to look in astonishment—it was Harry.

His expression was complex, but he stood firmly in front of Blake and Lupin, facing the anger in their eyes.

“Harry?” Black’s wand froze. He looked at Harry in disbelief, his eyes filled with confusion and pain. “He betrayed James and Lily! He ruined us…”

“I know!” Harry’s voice rose, interrupting Black. “I know he deserves to die! He deserves to die, I hate him more than anyone! But…”

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, his gaze sweeping over each professor present before finally settling on Sirius. "But we can't just kill him like this! Sirius,"

He called out the name, his voice tinged with awkwardness, "If you kill him now, you'll be a fugitive forever! People will only remember Sirius Black as a traitorous murderer, and they'll never understand the truth."

Blake's body trembled violently.

Harry continued, each word ringing with conviction: "We're going to hand him over to the Ministry of Magic. We're going to let everyone know the truth. Only then can you have true freedom! Only then... only then can you live with dignity, instead of forever carrying the stigma of being a fugitive!"

The lounge was silent, save for Peter's faint, terrified sobs coming from a corner.

Lupin took a deep breath, his tense body slowly relaxing. His gaze towards Harry held relief, approval, and even more so, pride in his best friend's son.

He put down his wand.

“Harry…” Black’s voice was hoarse. He took a step forward, as if to hug Harry, but then stopped. He stood there, looking deeply at Harry, and lowered his head. “You have more courage than any of us… Harry… but I don’t deserve it… Peter doesn’t deserve it either.”

Peter, who had been lying on the ground in despair and had closed his eyes to await death, suddenly burst forth with an amazing will to live, as if he had grabbed the last piece of driftwood.

He crawled on all fours to Harry's feet, tears and snot streaming down his face, his voice shrill and piercing:

“Harry! Good Harry! You’re right! You can’t kill me! I… I can testify! I can tell the whole world! Tell the Ministry of Magic! Black is innocent! Of course, I was forced into it! I’m willing to repent! I’m willing to spend a hundred years in Azkaban! A thousand years!”

He rambled on, then, as if suddenly struck by a "brilliant" idea, a morbid glint appeared in his beady eyes:

“Or…or I’ll never turn back into a human. I’ll be a mouse, a truly harmless mouse! For life! I’ll be Ron’s best pet! No! Everyone’s best pet! I’ll be very good, very obedient! I’ll never do anything bad again! Please, let me be a mouse, I promise I’ll be a good mouse…”

His groveling and fawning manner was more repulsive than any of his previous performances, and it filled everyone with a sense of sorrow.

“If you’re better at being a rat than a human, that’s really nothing to be proud of, Peter,” Blake said disdainfully.

Peter froze instantly, as if he had been slapped in the face without his knowledge.

"Justice will ultimately be served."

Dumbledore's gentle voice broke the silence. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally settling on Black. "This is not only for Sirius, but also for all those who have been deceived and hurt by Peter Pettigrew's lies."

“As for you, Harry,” Dumbledore said gently, “you have shown courage and wisdom that transcends hatred. That is no small feat.”

He turned to the crowd, “Now, please help me escort Peter to a safe place. I will immediately write a letter to Secretary Cornelius Fudge to inform him of all this.”

“Severus, please prepare some truth serum. I think Minister Fudge will need irrefutable evidence.”

Dumbledore then looked at Sagrais: "Sagrais, please help keep an eye on Peter and make sure he doesn't do anything else."

The professors immediately sprang into action.

Dumbledore returned to his office, took out a piece of parchment and a quill, and went to the small table by the fireplace, where he began to write rapidly.

"My dear Cornelius, there has been a major turning point in the Sirius Black case... We have found irrefutable evidence that the real culprit who betrayed the Potters and caused the bombing that killed Muggles was not Black, but Peter Pettigrew... Peter had been hiding in his Animagus form for many years, and was just exposed and subdued at Hogwarts..."

boom!

Fudge slammed Dumbledore's letter onto the table, his obese body trembling violently with rage.

"Absolutely absurd!"

Fudge's face turned from red to white, then from white to blue, and finally to a purplish-brown.

He suddenly jumped up from his chair and paced wildly around the office like an enraged rhinoceros.

He waved the letter, spitting as he roared:

"Black isn't dead?! Peter is the traitor?! What about my newspaper ad? What about my promise to the public? A complete joke?! Dumbledore, what do you take me for? A fool?! A puppet to be toyed with at will?!"

He grabbed the Daily Prophet from the table, looked at his own picture waving triumphantly, and felt a surge of adrenaline rush to his head.

He frantically crumpled the newspaper into a ball and slammed it against the wall.

He had just gone to great lengths to cover up the scandal of Blake's "body" disappearance with the lie that "the body had been cremated," and even promoted Sagres's "achievements" and his own "wise leadership" in the Daily Prophet.

Now, things have gotten even worse. In the blink of an eye, Dumbledore has sent him a letter demanding that he overturn everything.

Not only must we admit that Black is not dead, but we must also admit that the Ministry of Magic made a huge mistake back then, wrongly arresting a "hero" and letting the real culprit go free.

Even worse, they also wanted to convict Peter Pettigrew, who had already "sacrificed" himself and received the Order of Merlin, First Class.

"Sir Merlin's Order of the Holy Grail, First Class, awarded to a traitor?! This is the biggest scandal in the history of the Ministry of Magic! My political career..."

Fudge grabbed a silver ink bottle from the table and smashed it against the wall, splattering black ink everywhere.

"What a disgrace, what a disgrace! To exonerate a criminal who spent twelve years in Azkaban and to convict a hero who received the First Class Badge of Merlin! Good heavens, why do I always have to encounter this kind of thing!"

He roared and cursed, smashing everything he could in the office.

He hated Dumbledore for keeping him in the dark and not telling him; he hated Sacramento for his "fake death" plan that put him in such a passive position; he hated Sirius Black for not actually dying; and he hated Peter Pettigrew even more for hiding like a rat.

However, when the initial rage subsided like the tide, and looking at the mess on the ground, Fudge deflated like a punctured balloon, slumping back into the large executive chair.

He covered his face with his hands, feeling dizzy.

Dumbledore's letter was not a request, but a notification, and even more so, an unquestionable demand, witnessed by the professors of Hogwarts.

With irrefutable evidence, he had no other choice.

If he tries to delay or cover it up, the consequences will only be worse.

If Dumbledore were to reveal the truth directly to the public, he would be branded with shame, and his ministerial position would likely be over.

While admitting mistakes is shameful, at least the situation can be kept under control through "internal correction."

"Rufus!" Fudge slammed down the communicator on his desk, his voice hoarse as he roared, "Get Dolores Umbridge to me immediately! Right now! Take the elite escort team and get her to Hogwarts..."

After putting down the communicator, Fudge slumped into his chair, staring blankly at the magnificent chandelier on the ceiling, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

He needs time to think about how to deal with the impending media storm and how to minimize the losses... Perhaps, he could shift all the blame to "the mistakes in the investigation back then"? And reiterate the Ministry of Magic's "courage" to admit its errors and set things right?

He rubbed his temples in frustration.

The most urgent task is to do as Dumbledore asks.

He picked up a quill pen and, with trembling hands, began to draft a new announcement.

He had to control the release of information before, or at least simultaneously with, Dumbledore.

During this time, he had been trained so well by the people at Hogwarts that his skills had almost improved; he had never been this proficient in his previous actions.

Chapter 227 Don't Ask, It's All About Talent

The cold stone walls cast distorted shadows in the flickering torchlight. Deep within Hogwarts Castle, an abandoned classroom had been temporarily requisitioned as a prison cell.

Peter Pettigrew sat slumped in the cold corner like a lump of mud.

Specially made shackles bound his wrists and ankles, their eerie blue light flickering faintly in the dim light.

His eyes were vacant, and his body trembled uncontrollably, like a mangy dog ​​whose spine had been removed.

With a creak, the door opened.

Sagres silently entered the cell, his grey eyes appearing unfathomable in the firelight, and he looked at Peter as if he were looking at a stone.

Peter's obese body instinctively curled back, trying to blend into the cold stone wall.

"What...what do you want to do?" His voice was shrill, choked with sobs. "You can't...the Ministry of Magic is going to try me...the Dementors..."

"The Ministry of Magic's judgment and the Dementor's kiss are indeed the fate you deserve, Peter."