Harry was momentarily dazed; when he thought of a rat, his first reaction was Ron's disgusting, ugly dead rat.
He called up the previous documents and reread that old news report.
Peter Pettigrew had been blown up by the mad Black, leaving only a finger, and had been awarded the First Class Order of Merlin.
Harry was speechless.
He lifted the bed curtain and looked thoughtfully at the ugly rat missing a toe.
When Ron returned, he saw Harry standing by his bed, looking quite interested.
Ron then approached, curiously peering over. "What are you looking at, Harry?"
As he spoke, Ron saw Scabbers on his bed and frowned. "Oh, you're looking at Scabbers?"
Harry smiled at Ron. "Scabbers? Is that your pet rat's name?"
"Yeah." Ron began to complain incessantly. "Scabbers used to be Percy's pet, but he got a reward from Mum and got his own owl, so this old, fat rat was given to me."
"Scabbers has been with my family for ten years. He's so old he hardly moves. I don't really like him that much, but..."
He paused, lowering his voice a bit. "Oh... Harry, you know, Mum doesn't have the money to buy me a good pet."
"Oh..."
Harry paused. That was true; the Weasleys' poverty was well-known throughout the magical world.
But ten years.
That was a truly sensitive and suspicious timeframe.
"I'm sorry." Harry slowed his speech, then deliberately switched to a lighter tone. "But I have a really good suggestion."
"I'm very interested in your rat, Scabbers. I thought maybe you'd be willing to give him to me as a gift?"
Harry chose his words carefully.
He could tell that although Ron said he didn't like the pet that much, as one of the few things that truly belonged to him, he still cherished it.
He didn't say the next part, but after hearing Harry was interested in Scabbers, Ron was taken aback for a moment, hesitated for only a second, and then agreed readily.
"Of course! It's no big deal. I was getting a bit tired of that rat anyway!" Ron grabbed the rat from the bed and handed it to Harry.
He gave Scabbers a few reluctant glances, trying to sound optimistic and joking. "I didn't think you'd like a rat as a pet."
Harry was genuinely taken aback, but his hands moved without hesitation. He took Scabbers, grasping him firmly, ignoring the dead rat's frantic struggles, and put on a surprised and delighted expression. "This is brilliant, Ron. You're the best friend I could have!"
The slight reluctance in Ron's heart quickly faded under Harry's sweet words, and he soon became happy.
The moment Harry touched Scabbers, he used his magic to probe the dead rat's physical condition.
There was no doubt about it; it wasn't a real magical rat. Just as his intuition had told him, it was an Animagus with a disgusting form.
Peter Pettigrew.
Harry wore a deep smile, his lips moving silently as he mouthed a name fraught with suspicion. Then, he casually knocked out the struggling Scabbers.
He would lock him up for now.
The pressing matter now was to comfort his friend who had just lost his beloved pet.
Harry thought for a moment and then passed this task to the Operations Team, providing specific requirements.
The bird sent to Hogwarts as a gift shouldn't be a breed that was too expensive; that would make his friend, who was used to being poor, uncomfortable.
At the same time, it couldn't be too cheap, otherwise it would seem like Harry was taking advantage.
Receiving the command, Miss Mary White stared silently at the Silver Sun emblem on her wrist.
The unfortunate wretch trembling before her lay prostrate on the ground, cautiously watching the terrifying woman from the corner of his eye.
Johnny looked back in confusion. "Finished so quickly today? Did he spill everything he knows? Have you refined your methods again?"
"No." Mary replied coldly. She casually kicked the collapsed Dark wizard to Johnny's feet. "You continue the interrogation."
"If you really can't manage, send him to Conti. He has a specialized interrogation team at his estate."
With that, she stood up, draped her coat over her shoulders, and started to leave. Johnny quickly jumped up, pinning the would-be escapee firmly under his foot. "Hey! What are you going to do?"
Mary waved her wrist dismissively. "Our master's task."
The next day, during breakfast in the Great Hall, Ron was happily chatting with Harry when a brown owl landed right in front of him.
It was a young and beautiful owl, clearly well cared for, with sleek feathers and a robust build.
It delivered a letter to Ron, who looked bewildered. "Whose owl is this? Why is it delivering a letter to me?"
Harry took a slow sip of pumpkin juice, cleared his throat, and smiled. "I think it's yours."
"Mine? How could it be?" Ron thought Harry was joking and couldn't help laughing. "That owl isn't from my family."
Harry shrugged. If Ron didn't believe him, there was nothing he could do.
Ron's laughter trailed off as he noticed Harry wasn't laughing anymore.
He hesitated, looking at the owl that had landed before him, a bold guess forming in his mind.
Ron carefully reached out, first stroking the owl's head, then opening the letter.
The letter only had his name on it, clearly stating that the owl was a gift for him, as a reward for his helpfulness.
"Ah!" Ron was overwhelmed with joy. He jumped up, happily hugging the owl, and looked at Harry with deep emotion.
"I have my own owl!"
Ron bounced around excitedly, letting out yelps of joy. He gave Harry a firm clap on the shoulder. "You're a real mate! From today on, you're my best friend!"
Just as he was celebrating, a cold sneer came from nearby. Draco had somehow wandered from the Slytherin table over to the Gryffindor table, eyeing the owl in Ron's arms with disdain.
A twisted expression crossed Draco's face. He deliberately said, "It's just an owl. Look at you, acting like you've never seen anything before. Typical, poor Weasley."
Ron's laughter paused. He shot Draco a sideways glance, his mind suddenly working quickly.
Watching Draco's expression, Ron noticed his eyes were fixed on the owl. Ron glanced at Harry, who was calmly eating, and cheerfully made a face at Draco.
"Harry gave it to me. You don't have one~ You don't have one~"
As he chanted, Ron actually started singing happily. Seeing Malfoy displeased made him especially pleased.
Draco's expression contorted even further. He snarled, "Shut up, Weasley!"
Ron sang, "You don't have one~ Who doesn't have a gift~"
Draco, seething with rage, suddenly whipped out his wand. "Weasley, I challenge you to a duel!"
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