https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-280-A-Message-from-the-Headmaster/13685207/
Chapter 279: Neighbors Moody
The morning wind carried a chill, sweeping across the grass as sunlight filtered through sparse leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
The once-quiet garden now held about half a dozen people. Before them stood a small stone monument, surrounded by a mound of nuts, sunflower seeds, and corn.
Ferdinand, dressed in priestly robes, spoke in a low, solemn voice:
"Today, we gather here to bid farewell to a small life. In her brief two years, she brought us so much peace and joy. Now, she has passed into the next world, leaving behind memories that will endure forever.
Dear Millyen, may you run freely in that realm, feast endlessly on delicious food, and always bask in warm sunlight. Rest in peace, friends."
Fiona let out a soft sob, tears falling one after another.
—Well, she hadn’t really been that sad. After all, she’d known from the start that hamsters didn’t live long.
But Ferdinand’s elegy had been so beautifully written, so full of emotion, that it stirred something deep within her. And now, the tears wouldn’t stop.
Only after the funeral ended and they returned to the living room did she finally manage to calm herself.
"I’m sorry… I just couldn’t hold it together," Fiona choked out. "Now that I think about it… Millyen was such a sweet little thing. Even at the end, when she could barely run on her exercise wheel, she’d still crawl right onto my palm and curl up there…"
"You’ve lost a friend. It’s only natural to grieve," Ferdinand said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Millyen has simply shed her old, heavy body. In the afterlife, she’s surely a healthy, radiant little hamster now."
Wade felt no room to speak. The only guest, standing by the window with a grave expression, was staring out into the distance. He walked over.
In the kitchen, a few tiny humans were bustling about, busy preparing breakfast. The clatter of pans and cheerful voices filled the room with warmth and life.
"Mr. Moody," Wade said. "What are you watching?"
"Just now," Moody replied, voice low and tense, "a Muggle in ordinary clothes rode past on a bicycle, passing that truck parked by the roadside."
Wade glanced outside.
They weren’t in the suburbs of London. This was Moody’s house—right next door to the one they were renting. A quiet town, with regular traffic on the highway.
By the roadside stood an ordinary red truck. A few ordinary-looking pedestrians were walking past it.
"Uh…" Wade hesitated. "Someone on a bike passing by… what’s the problem?"
"Of course there’s a problem!" Moody slowly drew his wand, voice heavy with warning. "At that speed, he should’ve already appeared on the other side of the truck forty seconds ago. But I never saw him."
Wade looked again. Everything was calm. Nothing out of place.
Moody sneered. "Hah. Pretending to be a Muggle—clever, but not clever enough. I’m far more cautious than they think. And be careful—those bystanders might be working with them."
He shot a sharp glance at Wade, who stood relaxed.
"Stay alert, boy!"
"Even if this was aimed at me," Moody continued, "it might be about you too. Compared to your parents, your target is much larger. Someone might want to kidnap you."
Before he could finish, a young man stepped out from behind the truck.
Dusty from head to toe, he leaned on a bicycle that looked oddly deformed, one leg scraped raw with bloodstains, limping painfully forward.
Clearly, he hadn’t appeared sooner because he’d fallen.
Moody stared at him, eyes narrowed, until the man disappeared from view. Then, he swallowed the rest of his words as if nothing had happened—acting as though he’d never been engaged in a silent battle with the air itself.
Instead, he changed the subject smoothly.
"I heard Lockhart taught you magic?"
"Yes," Wade replied. "He gave us classes in Defensive Magic Against the Dark Arts for nearly half a year. Until his fraud was exposed, an Auror came to take him away, and then Professor Abigail took over."
"What did he teach?" Moody limped over and sat down in the nearby chair.
"Nothing useful. Mostly just stories about his own supposed heroic deeds—though we all know now he’s a fake. And he made students perform plays."
"Plays?" Moody frowned, clearly confused. "What does that have to do with defensive magic?"
Wade explained simply how Lockhart’s class had worked.
The retired Auror sat in silence for a long moment before saying, "Sounds like a complete waste of time… Honestly, based on that, how could anyone believe he managed to escape Azkaban?"
His magical blue eye and his normal one both turned toward the newspaper resting on the small table.
It was The Daily Prophet.
Ferdinand had long insisted on subscribing, wanting to understand the world Wade now lived in.
The front page screamed the news: Three Prisoners Escaped Azkaban—a massive breach in the magical world’s security.
Two weeks ago, Fudge had been flustered on camera every day, promising the Ministry would catch them swiftly and ensure public safety.
But two weeks had passed. None captured.
Public outrage was mounting. Fudge was forced to expand the manhunt, even broadcasting the fugitives’ faces in Muggle news.
Now, critics accused him of sharing magical secrets with Muggle officials.
The debate raged in newspapers—accusations, explanations, warnings.
The Ministry issued a dire message:
"Beware every rat you see. Any one of them could be Peter Pettigrew!"
They even published detailed articles describing Pettigrew’s Animagus form.
At the bottom of the page, a list of Rat-Killing Potions was advertised.
Wade stared at the paper—and realized he’d made a critical mistake.
He’d assumed Peter Pettigrew had escaped using his Animagus form, slipping past Dementors like Sirius Black had.
But Animagus transformations weren’t common. Without rare magical ingredients—like Mandrake Leaves—it was nearly impossible to teach.
So for Pettigrew to escape alone would have been difficult.
But he hadn’t escaped alone.
He’d brought two others.
Lockhart—obviously a fraud—was one.
But who was the other? The man named Garr?
The Ministry’s report said only that he was a vampire, arrested for violating the Confidentiality Act and harming a Muggle hospital worker. No further details. No information on his magical ability.
Apparently, his crime wasn’t serious enough to warrant a detailed profile. He’d offered no resistance during arrest.
So the entire report focused on one thing: "The Dark Lord’s most trusted servant—Peter Pettigrew."
So… where were Garr and Lockhart when Wade found Pettigrew?
Did they know he was dead?
Wade’s mind raced.
(End of Chapter)
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