The morning breeze carried a chill as it swept across the grass, and sunlight filtered through sparse leaves, casting dappled patterns on the ground.
In the once-quiet garden, four or five people stood solemnly. Before them was a small stone tablet surrounded by offerings of nuts, seeds, and corn.
Fred, dressed like a priest, spoke in a low, somber voice:
"Today, we gather here to bid a final farewell to a small yet cherished life. In her brief two years, she brought us much peace and joy."
"And now, she has gone to another world, leaving us with everlasting memories."
"Dearest Millie, may you run free in that world, where food is abundant, and the sunlight is always warm."
"Rest in peace, dear friend."
Fiona let out a quiet sob with tears streaming down her cheeks.
To be honest, she hadn't initially felt this sad, knowing from the start that hamsters had short lifespans.
But perhaps Fred's beautifully written eulogy stirred her emotions, causing her to tear up uncontrollably.
It wasn't until the funeral ended and they returned to the living room that she managed to calm herself.
"Sorry, I couldn't hold it in..." Fiona said through sobs. "Now that I think about it, Millie was such a sweet little thing... Even later, when she couldn't run on her wheel anymore, she would still climb into my hand..."
"You've lost a friend. It's normal to feel sad... Millie has simply shed her old, frail body. In heaven, she must be a beautiful, healthy little hamster."
Fred put a comforting arm around her shoulder. Seeing that there wasn't much room to add to the conversation, Wade glanced over at their sole guest, who stood by the window and was staring outside with a serious expression.
Wade decided to approach him.
In the kitchen, small figurine dolls were busy cooking. The clinking and clattering sounds added a lively warmth to the room.
"Mr. Moody," Wade asked as he approached, "what are you looking at?"
"A moment ago, I saw a man dressed as a Muggle riding a bicycle past that truck parked on the roadside," Moody replied with a severe and cautious tone.
Wade followed Moody's gaze outside.
They weren't staying in London's outskirts but next to Moody's house, near a small Muggle town. Vehicles frequently passed by on the road.
By the roadside was an ordinary red truck, with a few ordinary pedestrians walking by.
"Um..." Wade hesitated and asked, "Is there something unusual about someone riding by?"
"Of course there is!" Moody declared with utmost seriousness.
Moody slowly drew his wand and spoke in a grave tone:
"At the speed that guy was moving, he should have appeared on the other side of the truck about forty seconds ago... yet I haven't seen a trace of him."
Wade glanced outside again. The scene was calm, with nothing out of the ordinary.
Moody sneered. "Hmph, disguising oneself as a Muggle—a clever trick. Too bad I'm even more cautious than they think! Be careful, though; those passersby might be accomplices!"
He shot a glance at Wade, who stood there with a relaxed posture, and barked sharply:
"Stay alert, kid!"
"Even though it's likely they're attackers targeting me... they might also be after you. Compared to your parents, you're an easier target. Someone might even try to kidnap you..."
Before Moody could finish speaking, a young man appeared from behind the truck.
His clothes were covered in dust, and he was holding a bent bicycle with both hands. His left leg was scraped and bloodied, and he walked with a limp.
It seemed that the reason he hadn't appeared earlier was that he had accidentally fallen.
Moody stared at the man with a suspicious gaze for a long time, and watched him until he disappeared from view.
Then, swallowing the rest of his earlier words, he seamlessly changed the subject, as though he hadn't just been strategizing against imaginary threats.
"I heard that Lockhart taught you lot at one point?"
"Yes," Wade replied. "He taught us Defense Against the Dark Arts for about half a year, until everything unraveled. The Aurors took him away from the school, and then Professor Abigail replaced him."
"What did he teach you?"
Moody limped over to a nearby chair and sat down, looking curious.
"Not much useful stuff. Mostly, he told us stories about his supposed heroic deeds—which, as we all know now, were stolen—and made students perform plays," Wade said.
"Plays?" Moody repeated, puzzled, clearly unable to see the connection to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Wade briefly described Lockhart's teaching methods.
The retired Auror was silent for a long moment before finally speaking. "Sounds like a pompous idiot... Based on that alone, it's hard to imagine he actually managed to break out of Azkaban, isn't it?"
His magic artifact blue eye and his regular eye both turned toward the newspaper on the small table nearby.
It was a copy of The Daily Prophet.
Fred insisted on subscribing to the newspaper as a way to learn more about Wade's world.
The front-page headline of this edition reported the news of a breakout from Azkaban—three people escaping together!
This event caused an almost seismic reaction in the wizarding world.
For the past two weeks, Cornelius Fudge had been appearing on camera almost daily, awkwardly assuring everyone that the Ministry of Magic would swiftly recapture the escaped prisoners and ensure public safety.
Yet, two weeks had passed, and all three fugitives remained at large. The Ministry had not caught a single one.
Public criticism was mounting to the point where it could almost leap off the page and slap Fudge in the face. He was forced to expand the manhunt and even went so far as to make the fugitives' faces appear in Muggle news reports.
Some people began criticizing Fudge again, claiming he should not have informed the Muggle Prime Minister about matters of the wizarding world.
Both sides spent their days trading accusations and explanations in the newspapers while continually reminding the public just how evil and cunning the three escapees—especially Peter Pettigrew—were.
"Be wary of every rat around you! Any one of them could be Peter Pettigrew!"
The Ministry of Magic issued warnings in the papers, with writers emphasizing Pettigrew's Animagus form in bold detail.
Right below those articles, advertisements for various anti-rat magical potions conveniently followed.
...
When Wade saw the newspaper, he immediately realized he had made an assumption.
He had thought Peter Pettigrew escaped Azkaban in the same way Sirius Black had in the original storyline—using his Animagus form to slip past the Dementors' watchful eyes and make a stealthy escape.
Animagi were not very common, and without the necessary magical ingredients, such as Mandrake leaves, it was impossible to teach the skill to others.
For Peter to escape on his own was already impressive. Wade hadn't expected him to have accomplices.
Two of them, no less.
Lockhart, the incompetent fool, is one thing—but who is this man called Gale?
The information released by the Ministry of Magic only stated that Gale was a vampire who had been arrested for violating the Statute of Secrecy and injuring a Muggle working in a hospital.
However, there were no further details about his identity or magical abilities.
Perhaps because his crimes were relatively minor and he didn't resist much when captured, the Ministry had little information on him.
The reports continued to focus on "the Dark Lord's confidant—Peter Pettigrew."
At that time… when I found Peter, where were Gale and Lockhart? Do they know the cause of Peter's death?
These questions swirled in Wade's mind.
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