151: Chapter 151 Abnormal Newspaper

"Sirius Black has escaped from prison."

Peter's voice was sharp, as if cut by a knife, the moment it was released. He lunged toward the edge of the cage, his fingerless hand clawing at the transparent space barrier, his forehead covered in sweat.

Allen sat in the study of Potter Manor, the day's The Daily Prophet spread out beside him. In the front-page photo, Sirius Black looked gaunt, his matted hair plastered to his face, his eyes darting back and forth at the camera as if he might crawl out of the paper at any moment.

"Get to the point."

Peter's throat constricted, his eyes darting around. He looked first at the Void, then at the ebony box, and finally at the newspaper in Allen's hand.

"He's coming for me! He must be coming for me! Twelve years, it's been twelve years, and the first thing he does after getting out of Azkaban is to kill me!"

The tail tip of the Void tapped the ground outside the cage. There was little patience in its silver vertical pupils.

Allen folded a corner of the newspaper, revealing the announcement below the headline. The Ministry of Magic declared Black dangerous, a suspected loyal follower of Lord Voldemort, his escape route unknown, and warned the public not to approach him.

"The Ministry of Magic says he's one of Lord Voldemort's people."

Peter's face twitched, his voice dropping: "Of course they would say that. Everyone says that. Black has no way to defend himself; he didn't even get a trial when he was thrown into Azkaban."

Allen lifted his quill and wrote on the file: Black escaped, publicly labeled, follower of Lord Voldemort.

"Continue."

"I'm the one he's looking for." Peter swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing rapidly. "He thinks I'm still with the Weasley Family. He'll go looking for that rat, he'll go looking for Ron, he'll go looking for Harry. He'll turn the school upside down."

Allen stopped writing.

This was useful.

Outside the manor, the silver patterns of the family crest lit up. It reported: "The watcher at the street corner has changed shifts. Two Wizards, thirty-six yards from the iron gate, have not approached. The newly arrived owl carries the scent of a Ministry of Magic seal."

Allen put the newspaper into his Portable Space. The Void's tail tip curled, pressing the newspaper on top of the third-year file.

"The Ministry of Magic is blocking the public channels because of Black."

The family crest replied: "Probability increased. At nine o'clock this morning, the public magic channel officially released the Azkaban escape notice. The headline matches the newspaper."

Peter slammed the cage: "You have to let me out! No, don't let me out, you have to hide me deeper! Black will find me, he recognizes my Animagus scent, he'll look for places a dog can crawl into, he..."

The ban fell.

The rest of Peter's words were blocked in his throat. His palms pressed against the space barrier, and he slid down.

Allen watched the cage, his quill continuing to write.

Peter re-evaluated: Living evidence, Black's target, core of the old case. If exposed, Dumbledore, the Ministry of Magic, Harry, and the Order of the Phoenix would all get involved. The risk outweighs the benefits.

The Void's tail tip pressed against the word "risk," then it looked up.

"I know," Allen said. "He can't be seen yet."

Outside the study window, the street of the manor was the same as usual. A Muggle milk truck passed by slowly, the "drunkard" by the phone booth changed the bottle in his hand, and the person in front of the old bookstore started wiping a piece of glass that had already been wiped clean.

The family crest whispered a reminder: "The watcher has noticed the owl delivering the newspaper."

"Let them watch."

Allen turned up the light and spread out a piece of ordinary parchment. On it, he only wrote a few lines of summer vacation nonsense to Draco: The weather is humid, the old books are moldy, the doorbell at Potter Manor broke once, and writing essays is annoying.

The code at the end: White Peacock, don't stare at the Black dog.

After writing, he sealed the letter and handed it to the manor's owl.

The family crest paused briefly: "The Black dog code has a high risk."

"If Lucius opens the letter, he will only think I am reminding Draco to stay away from Black."

The Void coiled back beside the ebony box, its tail tip sweeping over Peter's cage. Peter understood, and his entire face turned gray.

Allen continued organizing the files. Beside the newspaper photo, he tucked in an old clipping that Nott had slipped to him at the station. It was a report from twelve years ago about Black blowing up a street and killing thirteen people, mentioning a finger at the end, and a "Peter Pettigrew" who was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin.

Allen placed the two papers side by side.

"An escaped convict, a dead hero."

Peter shook his head frantically in the cage, but with his mouth sealed, he could only make nasal sounds.

Allen gave him three seconds.

"I didn't want to be a hero!" Peter shrieked until his voice broke. "They gave it to me! I just wanted to live! The Master wanted the Potter Family's address, and if I didn't tell him, I would die! Black will kill me, Remus will kill me too, Dumbledore will hand me over, and you will too!"

"You are still alive."

Peter froze.

"Because you are useful." Allen put down the quill. "Don't waste it."

The ban fell.

Peter covered his mouth, trembling in the corner of the cage. The Void took a step closer, its silver pupils pressed against the space barrier. Peter immediately buried his head.

The family crest projected a map of the neighborhood: "After the Order of the Phoenix surveillance team received the newspaper, the frequency of shift changes shortened. The individual from the old bookstore has left, and a new individual has appeared at the east alley entrance, carrying traces of rainwater, tobacco, and old leather."

"Auror?"

"Cannot confirm."

Allen cut out Black's photo and pasted it separately on the first page of the third-year file. The man in the photo opened his mouth to laugh, then suddenly turned his head, as if he had spotted something not in the frame.

"He escaped from Azkaban, the Ministry of Magic's first reaction is to block, Dumbledore's first reaction is to watch me, Lucius will check the old circles first."

The family crest asked: "Should we notify young master Malfoy?"

"Already notified."

"Should we notify young master Nott?"

Allen pulled out another piece of parchment and wrote even shorter: The old clipping is effective, the Black dog is out of the cage early, don't touch the Azkaban line, keep an eye on public news. If Black, Peter, or Remus appear in your father's old letters, copy the index, not the original text.

He paused, then added: Don't let anyone see you checking for the rat.

The letter was folded.

The Void's tail tip drew a circle outside Peter's cage, as if mocking him.

Peter didn't dare move a muscle.

In the afternoon, the second extra edition of The Daily Prophet was delivered. The Ministry of Magic increased the bounty, warning that Black might try to approach Harry Potter. Fudge in the picture looked even more anxious than Black in the photo, and the lines were full of shifting blame.

Allen finished reading the extra edition and circled "Harry Potter."

"They are putting Harry in the open."

The family crest replied: "The public needs a target. The Chosen One is the easiest victim to understand."

"And the easiest to use as bait."

The Void's silver pupils turned to Allen.

"I'm not the one who put him there." Allen closed the newspaper. "The Ministry of Magic will do it themselves."

At night, Draco's reply arrived first. The letter had the wax seal of Malfoy Manor, the edges had been opened and resealed with a spell, the technique cruder than last year's.

Draco wrote very chaotically.

Father says Black is a mad dog, Mother tells me not to go out. Father also says if you mention the Black dog, I'll pretend I didn't see it. Did you know this would happen? Don't write dangerous words, my family's mail is more annoying than a Potion Class cauldron right now.

Allen finished reading, burned the envelope directly, and kept only the letter.

"Lucius is nervous."

The family crest asked: "Because of Black himself, or because he can talk about old events?"

"The latter."

He replied to Draco: Listen to your father. Don't talk about old events, don't talk about Potter, don't talk about Azkaban. Before school starts, only practice Disarming, Iron Shield, Lighting, and Stun spells. If anyone asks about me, answer: He is sleeping at the manor, and letters are few.

The code at the end: The White Peacock doesn't need to chase the Black dog, and the Black dog isn't chasing the peacock either.

After writing, Allen put the letter on the owl stand, arranging for it to be sent out tomorrow morning.

In the Portable Space, Peter stared at the line "the Black dog isn't chasing the peacock either," and his limbs began to go weak.

Allen looked at him through the space entrance.

"You had better pray that Black looks in the wrong place first."

Peter nodded desperately, making vague sounds of begging in his mouth.

Allen put away the files. Beside the ebony box, the cracked pocket watch was quiet, the blue light pressed into a single line only in the cracks of the watch face.

But on the third-year file, Black's photo was still moving.

The man in the photo suddenly stopped laughing, turned his face, and looked at the edge of the newspaper.

Allen pressed the photo down with a knut.

"The one who disrupted the board early is already out of the cage."