Chapter 87: Peter Pettigrew
At this time, everything was silent, and everyone had fallen asleep. None of them expected that after arriving in Ravenclaw, they'd be sharing a room with the infamous Peter Pettigrew.
With a thought from Alexander Smith, invisible magic wove itself like a spiderweb around Peter, who had taken the form of the rat Scabbers. An illusory spirit form—balding, middle-aged, with small watery eyes and a pointed nose—floated out from the sleeping rodent.
At the same time, on the Marauder's Map, the name Peter Pettigrew flickered, tangled, and then disappeared into a spray of motes.
With a quiet, heart-wrenching creak, the door to Smith Castle—hidden deep within Ravenclaw Tower—opened. A rational spirit representing a fragment of the treacherous wizard floated before Alexander.
Sensing his presence, the door opened automatically, revealing a portal that originally resided in the castle basement. The door emerged in front of Alexander as if summoned.
Then, a stone box in the dungeon snapped open. The bald spirit of Pettigrew was sucked into it effortlessly. Magical circuits flared on the outside of the box, and with a heavy clang, it sealed shut.
"If you want to be a rat, then be a rat—with a wizard's lifespan," Alexander thought to himself. He resolved to wait until Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban, desperate and hunted, before returning Peter's spirit body to Dumbledore.
After all, he wasn't Sirius's father—and considering how indifferent Sirius had been, maybe a few extra years in prison wouldn't hurt him.
Back in Ravenclaw Tower, beside Alexander's bed, a handsome young man dressed in a blue robe embroidered with gold threads emerged from a swirling ink-like shadow.
Alexander stepped downstairs, passing by a Ravenclaw student still reading a book. The student didn't even look up, as if Alexander were invisible, or from another dimension.
He left the lounge and descended the dizzying spiral staircase, before ascending again toward the eighth floor. He stopped in front of the familiar tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by a troll.
Pacing back and forth three times, he thought about a specific date, and soon, a smooth door appeared in the wall. He stepped in, and as he closed the door, the entrance vanished behind him, leaving the wall perfectly intact.
He found himself in a room filled with a rosy, dreamy atmosphere. In the center of the room, on a plush sofa, Penelope Clearwater and Kate were quietly flipping through books.
Even after Alexander entered, the girls continued reading, completely ignoring his presence—as though he were just a gust of wind or something that didn't belong there.
"Penelope?" Alexander called gently.
Penelope rubbed her eyes, flipping another page. No response.
"Kate?" he tried again.
Kate's ear twitched slightly, but she didn't look up.
"You're the one who said to pretend we didn't know each other at school," Alexander muttered, already feeling a headache coming on.
Smack!
Penelope slammed her book onto the peach-blossom embroidered carpet.
"I told you not to come find me anymore!" she said in disbelief.
"And do you know Hermione Granger?" Kate snapped, slamming her book shut too.
An hour later, after Alexander had exhausted every sweet word he could think of, the mood finally calmed. He couldn't believe he had that much persuasive power.
Every time something went wrong, Alexander managed to fix it with words. Had he really suffered from social anxiety in his past life?
After another fifteen minutes of gentle comforting, Penelope and Kate—ordinary teenage girls with average stamina—left the Room of Requirement one after the other, casting Disillusionment Charms on themselves.
Alexander returned directly to the coordinates he'd left in his dormitory. Early the next morning, golden sunlight shone through the dark blue curtains onto his bed.
He got up and changed into his school robes.
The lighting in the Ravenclaw dormitory was truly excellent. From the window beside his bed, he could see the calm, glistening Black Lake. It was still early, and not a single soul was outside—not even by Hagrid's hut near the Forbidden Forest, where a tall figure could be seen moving in the distance.
Inside, the dormitory was cozy, its floor covered in a starry carpet matching the common room. The ceiling was domed, giving it an airy and mystical feel.
There were six four-poster beds in total. Aside from Harry and Ron, the room was shared by Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and Anthony Goldstein.
It was funny—if Harry had remained a Gryffindor, his roommate would've been Dean Thomas, one of Ginny Weasley's former boyfriends.
But even now, with Harry in Ravenclaw, his roommate Michael Corner still happened to be one of Ginny's exes.
What was more amusing was that Dean Thomas was also Black. Did Ginny have a type? Or was it just a result of J.K. Rowling's questionable taste?
In Rowling's original character designs, Dean had a well-developed background, though most of it was scrapped from the final books. He was meant to discover that his father was a wizard who had refused to join the Death Eaters and was killed for it.
Raised by his Muggle mother and stepfather, Dean thought he came from a purely non-magical background. His father's identity was never revealed to protect the family.
Unfortunately, Alexander wasn't in Gryffindor and didn't have a good reason to investigate if this subplot still existed in this world.
Nostalgic moments like these—especially those tied to the original plot—were always a comforting reminder for Alexander, who was now living in a completely different reality.
He continued to sit quietly on his bed, with no intention of going to the Great Hall for breakfast alone.
After three years, Alexander had developed a good way to manage his unnatural charm. Smith's magic and his natural aura of passivity and obscurity hadn't faded.
As long as Alexander wasn't by himself in front of others, people tended not to notice his almost magical allure. Being surrounded by others allowed him to exist quietly, unnoticed.
Of course, he couldn't help it when directly called out—like when answering questions or being sorted the day before.
To avoid attention—and because he didn't actually need food—he decided to wait a bit longer before leaving.
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