Harry couldn't quite bring himself to believe it. How could a great hero like that have a rat for his Animagus form? And why were all his father's friends so peculiar—werewolves, rats...
Ron was still stubbornly shaking his head. "It just doesn't make sense. He's the one who caught Black—why would he turn into a rat and hide out at my house for over ten years? That's just bonkers. And if you and George and Fred all think he's Peter, why not just ask Scabbers directly instead of hunting for some spell to turn him back into a person?"
Hermione sighed. "I actually tried, but the Professor's potion is too strong. Scabbers just sleeps and sleeps—nothing wakes him up."
Harry spread his hands, resigned. "Talking about it won't change anything. All we can do is wait and see if those two can turn Scabbers back into a human. If they can't, then all our guesses are rubbish."
Hermione nodded in agreement. "The only thing we're certain of is that Black might be a werewolf. The Ministry's been out hunting werewolves everywhere lately—so at least that part of our theory checks out."
Suddenly, Ron looked worried. "What if, during the transformation, Scabbers isn't Peter? George and Fred won't end up killing him, will they?"
Hermione shot back, "Maybe you should've thought of that before you traded him away. And by the way, if Scabbers really is Peter, George and Fred will get the biggest credit in the Detective Society's logbook. When it comes time to split any reward, they'll get the lion's share. Hmph!"
Ron grumbled, "That's only because you two never tell me anything."
Harry quickly changed the subject. "Let's try digging up more about Black from other sources. Remember, our main goal is to uncover the real story behind his arrest and imprisonment."
Hermione added, "We've already gathered nearly everything we can for the Detective Society. Once Ginny finishes organizing it, I'll see if there are any clues we missed."
Ron complained, "Lately, everyone's been slower at finding information. Every meeting, it's just the same old guesses."
Harry sighed. "Can't be helped—Hogwarts has piled on so many exams and assignments. Everyone's busy studying. If my cousin hadn't suddenly insisted I wrap this up before Christmas, I wouldn't be so frantic either."
Hermione had been quiet, head down, but suddenly looked up. "Harry, didn't you once say Hagrid gave you a photo album?"
Harry nodded, puzzled. "Yeah, it's at the bottom of my trunk. Why?"
Hermione said, "Could you lend it to me? I've got a feeling we're missing something important."
Harry nodded and dashed off to his dormitory.
Moments later, he returned, clutching the album, excitement in his voice. "I can't believe I never noticed this before! Look—"
He pointed to his parents' wedding photo. Next to them stood a strikingly handsome man, smiling warmly.
Hermione peered at the picture. Black was tall and lean, elegant and impossibly handsome, with a mane of glossy black hair and piercing gray eyes. Under the spell's enchantment, Black's every movement radiated a kind of effortless arrogance—a wild, carefree charm that was utterly captivating.
She frowned, puzzled. "This is Black? He looks nothing like the man in the Daily Prophet photos. And he certainly doesn't look like a werewolf here."
Ron glanced at the photo and snorted. "Hmph! Werewolves are masters of disguise."
He flipped to the next page. "Hey, is this Professor Lupin as a student? Looks like he was a prefect, too. I thought the Professor said he only knew your dad in passing and didn't want to talk to you much, but in this photo, they look really close."
Harry leaned in. The photo showed four people—his father had his arms around Black and Lupin, while at the edge stood a short boy with his arms crossed, who looked uncannily like the Peter Pettigrew from those old Daily Prophet clippings.
He'd never really noticed before, but now, suspecting that Scabbers might be Peter, he couldn't help but see it. The boy was short, with a sharp nose and a face that just seemed... rodent-like. It made Harry instinctively distrust him.
Hermione huffed, glaring at Harry. "You kept such an important clue at the bottom of your trunk? Didn't you ever look at these photos?"
Harry opened his mouth, embarrassed. "I was always just looking at my parents. I never really paid attention to the others."
Hermione flipped through the entire album, then pulled out the group photo, staring at Lupin for a long while. To her, Lupin looked even more like a werewolf than Black—his eyes always tired, his expression perpetually worn, just like now.
She'd already dismissed the idea that Professor Lupin might be a werewolf, but on Halloween—the night of the full moon—he'd disappeared again. Even though he'd shown up for the morning run the next day, Hermione couldn't shake her doubts.
A wild thought crossed her mind: If both Black and Professor Lupin were werewolves, what if Harry's father and Peter were, too? After all, only someone with werewolf blood would befriend werewolves—ordinary wizards were far too prejudiced.
Maybe Harry himself even had werewolf blood. With that thought, Hermione shot Harry a strange look. No wonder he was always so impulsive.
Finally, she handed the group photo to Harry, her tone serious. "I think you need to talk to Professor Lupin privately, and bring this photo with you. He's the only person we know who was close to both Black and Peter. He must know something. With this photo, I doubt he'll avoid you anymore."
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