bacchusnovels Chapter 503 Peter's Letter
Chapter 503 Peter's Letter
Chapter 503 Peter's Letter
On this day, Harry received a letter.
The handwriting on the envelope was messy yet familiar; he recognized it immediately as Sirius Black's. A surge of excitement welled up inside him, and he quickly tore open the envelope and unfolded the parchment.
Dear Harry:
See the word as the face.
I heard about the results of the second project, well done! You've successfully completed the challenge again, I'm so proud of you. Lily would be terrified if she knew you stayed underwater for so long, but don't worry, I won't tell her—unless, of course, I could.
I also heard that you encountered a mermaid at the bottom of the lake?
Merlin's beard, are you the only wizard who has experienced the "friendly treatment" from the mermaid?
However, the way you saved Ron certainly showed your courage. Regarding the third project—you must be fully prepared.
Keep it up! Take care of yourself. We'll find a chance to have a good chat after your competition.
Sirius the Little Star.
Harry felt a warm glow inside after reading the letter.
It's been a long time since anyone has cared about him like this.
Unlike Harry, Sean also received a letter from his loyal servant, Peter Pettigrew, who was infiltrating Voldemort's inner circle.
Dear Master:
Please believe me, I am not exaggerating – the situation is truly urgent, and I have to report to you as soon as possible!
Voldemort's power is returning, and his resurrection plan has entered a new phase. I've been trying to find out the details, but as you know, that despicable, ruthless, and utterly wicked man trusts no one, and he's never revealed the full plan to me.
But even so—
I still managed to glean some crucial intelligence.
Barty Crouch Jr.! He's still at Hogwarts, operating as Mad-Eye Moody, and he wants to make a move in the third event of the Triwizard Tournament! Their plan is to use the tournament to send Harry Potter to a specific location and then perform the resurrection ritual there.
More specific details—I haven't been able to find out yet.
But please believe me, I will work even harder and will not let you down!
And—Master, I must confess, I—I messed something up. It really, really, really didn't mean to!
As per your instructions a while ago, I originally intended to intervene slightly to make Barty Crouch less conspicuous, lest he be harmed by Voldemort—but, but! While he was conscious, he actually took advantage of my negligence and successfully escaped!
When Voldemort found out about this—he was furious! He didn't punish me directly, but I knew he had begun to suspect me—my situation was more dangerous than before, Master, what should I do?
Please, you must save me!
The way he looks at me now is completely different! That cold, dangerous gaze—it's like he's sizing up a tool that can be discarded at any moment! Although—it was like that before, it's completely different now—if I make any further moves, I'm afraid—I'm afraid I'll be the next one to be "purged"!
Master, you are the most intelligent and far-sighted wizard I have ever met. Your wisdom is unmatched and your judgment has never been wrong. Therefore, you must understand that I have no value left by Voldemort's side!
Besides, your primary purpose in sending me to infiltrate his inner circle was to gather intelligence, but now the situation has changed! I'm finding it difficult to even glean the most basic information! Add to that the matter of Barty Crouch Jr., and my current predicament—is absolutely dire! I could be in danger at any moment, Master!
If anything happens to me, Voldemort will definitely search my soul, and then everything I've done before will be exposed! The secret of you sending me undercover, the intelligence I passed on to you—everything will be revealed! Master, for your plan, and for my own life, I beg you to have mercy and let me leave!
Rest assured, I will never let you save me for nothing! I am willing to continue to serve you and do anything for you! You need me to go wherever you need me, even to the most remote places to carry out your missions, I will have no complaints! As long as I can stay away from Voldemort, I will do anything!
Master, I know you have always been wise and decisive, and your decisions have never been wrong! If you are willing to let me retreat, I will remember your kindness and serve you for generations to come, forever loyal to you!
—Your humblest and most loyal servant, Peter Sean, looked at the letter that filled three pages of parchment and his lips twitched slightly.
Immediately afterwards, he casually spread the letter out on the table and observed the handwriting: it was indeed Peter's handwriting, and there was also the secret code agreed upon by the two of them.
It's obvious—
Peter was extremely nervous when he wrote this letter, and his handwriting was very messy, with the ink even smudging in some places.
When Sean saw the last long, blatantly flattering passage, he couldn't help but chuckle.
Peter's will to survive was astonishing; he could even imagine the trembling of the rat-like Animagus as he wrote this letter—the boy was completely on edge from Voldemort's suspicions.
Voldemort's resurrection plan is underway, and Barty Crouch Jr., hiding in Hogwarts, plans to send Harry to a specific location during the third project.
This information was not unexpected, but Peter did hit a key point.
If he is truly exposed and Voldemort searches his soul, then I will indeed be in trouble.
Sean narrowed his eyes, gently rubbing his chin as he pondered how to handle the situation.
While keeping Peter in hiding could indeed yield some valuable intelligence, the situation is different now. Voldemort's paranoia is more severe than ever, and the risk of Peter remaining is actually greater.
He glanced down at the owl standing by the table, looking utterly dejected—the poor bird, forced to carry three pieces of parchment on a long journey, was almost questioning its very existence.
"Thank you for your hard work." Sean reached out and took out a few owl cookies and placed them aside. The owl gave him a resentful glare, but eventually picked up a cookie and ate it.
He took out a brand new parchment, dipped his pen in ink, and began to write a reply.
He could consider Peter's request, but Fang—he needed to think it over carefully.
After breakfast on Sunday, Hermione dragged Harry and Ron to the kitchen to check on the results of her hard work over the past few days.
Upon entering, the kitchen was bustling with activity, with house-elves flitting between the stove and the long table, skillfully preparing the next meal.
The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread.
Hermione glanced around and immediately asked, "Dobby, where's Blink?"
Dobby's ears drooped slightly, and he said in a low voice, "Sparkle is by the fire, Miss."
Hermione frowned and hurried toward the fireplace.
"Oh my god—" She gasped when she saw the sparkle.
Harry and Ron followed her gaze and saw Flashy still sitting on the same little stool as before, but she looked even more haggard. Her clothes were so worn and tattered they could hardly be called clothes anymore; they were covered in dirt and grime, hanging wrinkled on her body like a rag carelessly tossed in a corner. Her skin was ashen, and the blackened brick wall behind her almost blended into her, making her difficult to spot without careful observation.
Even more surprisingly, she was clutching a bottle of butterbeer tightly in her hand, swaying slightly on the stool, staring blankly at the flickering firelight in the fireplace, exuding an aura of utter despair.
Hermione's expression changed instantly.
Dobby whispered to Harry, "Sparkling is drinking six bottles a day now."
"Oh, this beer isn't very strong," Harry said instinctively.
Dobby shook his head repeatedly, his ears twitching: "That's quite impressive for a house-elves, sir."
As if to confirm Dobby's words, Sparkle let out another loud hiccup and shook his head with a dazed look in his eyes. Hermione never imagined that in just a few days, the second-in-command of her "house-elves" organization would become like this.
It's simply... appalling.
Ron muttered under his breath, "Is this all you've got?"
Hermione's face turned bright red, as if she had been slapped hard. She opened her mouth, but couldn't say a word for a moment.
"A few days ago, Mr. Crouch suddenly disappeared, and Gilgamesh was so worried about her master that she ended up looking like this."
Dobby's explanation made Hermione feel a little better.
"Missing?" Ron exclaimed. "But wasn't he just at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament a while ago?"
Ron's words made Harry realize a fact—he hadn't seen Mr. Crouch for quite some time.
When was the last time I saw Crouch?
He tried to recall, it seemed to be—the first project?
However, looking back now, Mr. Crouch already seemed unusually nervous and strange at that time.
Hermione comforted Gilgamesh, "We can't be sure it's true yet."
"Master needs his—uh——Sparkling!" Sparkling sobbed, then took another gulp of wine, his body swaying even more violently. "Master—uh—how—uh—how can he possibly handle this alone—"
"Household chores can be done by others, Sparkle." Hermione said seriously, trying to bring the second admiral back to reality.
But Sparkle suddenly sat up straight, screaming excitedly, "Sparkle—uh—not just—uh—doing chores for Mr. Crouch!" Her body trembled violently, spilling wine from the bottle onto her already stained clothes. "Master—uh—trusts Sparkle, and has told Sparkle the most important—uh—most secret things—"
—
Hermione, Harry, and Ron exchanged a glance and immediately grasped the key point of the sentence.
"What is it?" Harry asked quickly.
However, Shan Shan just shook her head vigorously, getting even more drunk, and almost dropped the bottle in her hand.
"Sparkling can't—uh——reveal her master's secret." She muttered, frowning and staring at Harry with unfocused eyes. "You—uh—you're meddling."
"Sparkler, you're not allowed to talk to Harry Potter like that!" Dobby immediately jumped out angrily, shrilly, "Harry Potter is brave and noble, Harry Potter never meddles in other people's business!"
"He's eavesdropping on—uh—my master's—uh—secret private affairs—" Sparkle's voice trailed off, her head swaying uncontrollably as if it might collapse at any moment. "Uh—Sparkle is a good house-elf—uh—Sparkle knows how to keep quiet—uh—people try every means—uh—to pry—uh—"
Before she could finish speaking, her eyelids drooped, and she suddenly slid off the small stool, falling directly onto the carpet in front of the fireplace with a soft thud, followed by heavy snoring. Even the empty wine bottle in her hand rolled onto the stone floor.
A few seconds later, six or seven house-elves rushed over, their faces filled with disgust and disdain.
One of them picked up the wine bottle, while the others skillfully took a large checkered tablecloth and covered Shan Shan completely, even carefully tucking in the four corners, as if they didn't want anyone to see her like this again.
"I'm so sorry you had to see this, sir and madam!" a little elf cried out, shaking her head vigorously, her face full of shame. "I really hope you won't judge all of us house-elves just because of Sparkle, sir and madam!"
Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. "She's unhappy! Why don't you try to make her happy instead of covering her up?!"
Upon hearing this, the little elf's face showed even more shame. She lowered her head and bowed deeply, her voice trembling, "I'm sorry, Miss, but when there is work to do and a master to serve, a house-elf has no right to be unhappy."
Hermione wanted to retort, but seeing Gilgamesh's expression, she lost the will to continue.
So the three of them left the kitchen, feeling a little melancholy.
the other side.
Although Furong failed to complete the task on time in the second project and lost her qualification to participate in the third project, Beauxbatons' team still did not leave.
This is perfectly reasonable.
The Triwizard Tournament is not yet over, and as one of the official participating schools, Beauxbatons has no reason to leave prematurely.
With the pressure of continuing the competition gone, Furong felt much more relaxed.
Coupled with the impact of Sean's speech in the auditorium a while ago, these days have made her feel as if she has suddenly returned to the time six months ago—
At that time, the sky was still blue, the grass was still green, there were no rumors or gossips, and no meaningful glances lingered on her.
She remains the brightest star in Beauxbatons.
So she was very happy that she was finally able to enjoy some rare moments of relaxation and spend her time on things that she was truly interested in.
She would sunbathe on the grass in front of Beauxbatons' carriage, casually flipping through books, occasionally conjuring a little butterfly that would dance on her fingertips with her wand; she would stroll along the Hogwarts Lake, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks, watching the giant squid stretch its tentacles on the water's surface; she even took the rare opportunity to relax and visit the house-elves in the kitchen, tasting their desserts—although Hermione's figure would occasionally flash before her eyes, giving a lesson to a group of elves, which made her both amused and exasperated.
What pleased her most was that Beauxbatons' female companions finally stopped giving her those suggestive looks and started surrounding her again, chatting about all sorts of trivial things.
"You know what? That red-haired boy at Hogwarts has been secretly watching you lately!" a girl said, blinking.
"Ron Weasley?" Fleur casually tossed her long silver hair and smiled, "He's cute, but—" She deliberately dragged out the last syllable, making the girls around her laugh.
They reminisced about the fun they had at the ball, talked about Hogwarts lessons, the secrets of the castle, and occasionally whispered gossip about the Triwizard Tournament.
This relaxed life continued until that day.