novelcrest Chapter 396 At this moment, he suddenly felt so tired.
Chapter 396 At this moment, he suddenly felt so tired.
Chapter 396 At this moment, he suddenly felt so tired.
Inside the school clinic, Mrs. Pomfrey was meticulously examining several people, impatiently applying ointment to Ron's arm.
On the other side, Snape was relentlessly pouring out his "evidence" to Dumbledore. His voice was slightly shrill with anger.
"I suppose he's already told you the nonsense he planted in Potter's head," Snape said with a sneer. "What rats?"
What kind of bizarre fabrication is this—Peter Pettigrew is still alive?!
Dumbledore simply watched him quietly, his gaze, visible through his half-moon-shaped spectacles, revealing a hint of patience. "That's exactly what Black said."
“Oh, of course,” Snape roared, “so my testimony is meaningless? Peter Pettigrew isn’t in the Shrieking Shack, and I haven’t found any trace of him on the ground!”
"That's because you were knocked unconscious, Professor!" Hermione interjected urgently. "You didn't hear me at all—"
"Miss Granger, shut up!" Snape roared, turning to glare at her with his cold, dark eyes.
Hermione shuddered when Snape kicked her like that.
She rarely saw Snape so angry.
"Oh dear, Snape," Fudge said somewhat awkwardly, "you must be a little more lenient with this young lady—her mind is completely muddled."
"I'd like to speak with the children alone," Dumbledore suddenly interrupted them. "Cornelly, Severus, Bobby—please leave for a moment."
"Headmaster!" Madam Pomfrey protested, hands on her hips, glaring at Dumbledore. "They need treatment! They need rest! I won't allow them to be subjected to any more stimulation—"
"This can't wait, Bobby," Dumbledore repeated. "I must insist."
Mrs. Pomfrey snorted, reluctantly turned around, and stormed back to her office, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.
Fudge glanced at the large gold pocket watch hanging on his vest, looking somewhat anxious.
"The Dementors should be here by now," he said. "I must go meet them. Dumbledore, see you upstairs."
He walked toward the door, politely opened it, and waited for Snape, but Snape remained standing there, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore.
"Of course you don't believe the stories Black made up, do you?" Snape asked coldly, his voice low.
Dumbledore repeated his words for the third time, "I want to speak with the children alone."
Snape seemed about to say something more, but in the end he simply took a step closer to Dumbledore and whispered, "Sirius Black showed homicidal tendencies when he was sixteen, you haven't forgotten, have you, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he tried to kill me, have you?"
"My memory is not so old that I have forgotten this, Severus," Dumbledore replied calmly.
Snape's face was as stiff as stone. He turned abruptly and strode out of the door Fudge had opened, his black robes billowing in the air like a shadow.
The door slammed shut behind them, shutting out the noise from the outside world.
Dumbledore turned around and looked at the four little ones in the room.
The four of them spoke almost simultaneously.
"Professor, what Blake said is true—we saw Peter the Little Star—"
Then Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf, and Pettigrew took the opportunity to escape—Peter was a rat who had been hiding with Ron for twelve years—
—He cut off one of his own fingers; that was the only 'body part' they found at the time. —Peter attacked Ron, not Sirius!
But Dumbledore raised his hand to stop their rapid-fire reports.
“It’s your turn to hear. I beg you not to interrupt me, because time is short,” he said in a low voice. “There is no evidence to support Blake’s story except your words—and the words of two thirteen-year-old wizards cannot convince anyone.”
"All the witnesses on the street insist that they saw Sirius kill Pettigrew."
"I myself have testified to the Ministry of Magic that Sirius Black was the Potters' secret keeper."
"Professor Lupin can tell you—" Harry couldn't help but interject.
"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the Forbidden Forest and cannot speak to anyone. Once he transforms back into human form, it will be too late; Sirius will suffer a fate worse than death. Besides, werewolves are not trusted by many, and his testimony carries little weight—and he and Sirius are old friends." But—
"Listen to me, Harry. It's too late, you understand? You must see that Professor Snape's testimony is far more compelling than yours."
"He hates Sirius," Hermione said urgently, "all because Sirius played a stupid prank on him—"
"Sirius's actions don't make him seem like an innocent person. Attacking the Fat Lady—sneaking into the Gryffindor Tower with a knife—whether Sirius is dead or alive, if we can't find him, we won't have a chance to exonerate Sirius."
"But you trust us."
"I believe it," Dumbledore said softly, "but I have no power to let others see the truth, nor can I influence the Minister of Magic."
Harry stared at that stern face and felt as if the ground were collapsing. He had grown accustomed to thinking that Dumbledore could solve everything, hoping that Dumbledore would conjure up some brilliant solution out of thin air, but no one did—their last hope was shattered.
"What we need," Dumbledore said slowly, his light blue eyes turning to Hermione, "is time."
"But—" Hermione said, then her eyes widened, "Oh!"
"Now, listen carefully," Dumbledore said in a low voice, "Sirius is being held in Professor Flitwick's office on the eighth floor, in the thirteenth window on the right side of the West Tower."
"If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight."
"But you must remember: you must not be seen. Miss Granger, you know the rules—you should know what the dangers are—you must never—be—seen—by anyone."
Every word Dumbledore spoke struck Hermione's mind like a hammer blow, and she instinctively reached for the Time-Turner around her neck.
He nodded slightly.
Harry was completely bewildered and had no idea what had happened.
Just as he was trying to sort out his thoughts, Dumbledore had already started to leave. Before leaving, he stopped, turned around, and looked at the group.
"I'm going to lock you all here," he said in a low voice. "It's five minutes to midnight now." He glanced down at his pocket watch.
Miss Granger, three spins are enough. Good luck.
"Good luck?" The door closed softly behind Dumbledore. Harry stared at the door and muttered to himself, "Three turns? What did he say?"
What are we supposed to do?
Hermione didn't answer, but her expression showed unprecedented tension and fear.
Yes, fear.
She trembled slightly, and the unforgettable memory uncontrollably surfaced in her mind—the helplessness and struggle in the cracks of time, the long, wasted week, especially that night… She couldn’t shake off those memories.
Will this really work? She asked herself, but she couldn't find the answer.
Sophia keenly noticed Hermione's unusual behavior.
She stood to the side, her brow slightly furrowed, and slowly approached her. "Hermione, are you alright?"
Hermione subconsciously bit her lip, not answering immediately, her eyes wandering, as if she were trapped in her own world.
Sophia gently placed her hand on her shoulder: "We can definitely do it. Dumbledore believes in us, and we should believe in ourselves too."
"But—what if we fail?" Hermione's voice squeezed out from deep in her throat, so soft it was almost inaudible, but the struggle within it was clear.
"Then let's try again," Sophia replied without hesitation, her tone devoid of any doubt.
Hermione looked up, staring blankly at her, her eyes filled with contradiction and confusion.
After a moment, she lowered her head again, her voice almost drowned out by the air: "What if, no matter how many times we try, the result is the same?"
Sofia gently interrupted her: "We can't predict the future, but we can decide what to do now."
Then, she said, word by word,
"As long as we've done our best and have no regrets, that's victory."
Hermione's breathing gradually calmed down. She raised her head, and the confusion in her eyes was slowly dispelled, replaced by a faint determination.
She nodded slightly, shook Sophia's hand, and didn't say anything more.
After a moment, she fumbled around in the collar of her robe and pulled out a thin gold chain.
The chain reflected a faint light in the dim light, and a small hourglass hung on it, so delicate that it looked like a work of art.
"You guys, come here right now!" Hermione whispered urgently, beckoning to the other two.
"What?" Harry took a step closer, still looking confused.
He looked down at the gold chain and hourglass in Hermione's hand, not understanding what these things had to do with the current situation.
Hermione quickly placed their hands on the chain, her face completely focused.
"Are you ready?" she asked in a low voice.
"Prepare what?" Harry looked bewildered, his eyes darting back and forth between Hermione and the hourglass. "What's this for?"
Ron, who was standing to the side, opened his mouth as if to say something.
Hermione didn't answer, but instead reached out and grabbed the handle of the hourglass, gently turning it three times.
However, none of the other three noticed that Sophia frowned, a rare occurrence, when Hermione turned the hourglass.
In an instant, the darkness in the ward disappeared.
Harry felt as if he were being swept up by a strong gust of wind, his entire body flying backward at high speed.
The surrounding scene became blurred, and colors and shapes blended into shimmering spots.
He felt a ringing pressure in his ears, and his chest tightened as if an invisible hand was squeezing his lungs.
Suddenly, the buzzing in my ears gradually subsided, and my blurry vision began to clear.
Harry looked around and found the four of them standing in the empty foyer.
A beam of bright golden sunlight shone in through the open front door, making the marble floor gleam.
"Hermione, is this Yi-Yi?" Ron had barely opened his mouth when Hermione grabbed his arm, then pulled Harry along, and quickly dragged the two of them to a broom cabinet.
She opened the door and pushed them inside, with Sophia following closely behind. Hermione slipped in herself and quickly closed the door.
"What's going on here?" Ron asked in a low voice, squeezed between the bucket and the mop.
"We've gone backwards in time," Hermione whispered, frantically tucking the Time-Turner's chain into her collar. "Back three hours—"
Harry raised his hand and pinched his thigh, wincing in pain. This wasn't a dream; he was certain.
"But—"
"Shh!" Hermione suddenly made a shushing gesture. "Listen! Someone's coming!"
She pressed her ear against the cabinet door, her whole body tense.
"Footsteps—talking—… Hmm, I heard that," Hermione murmured, turning to the three of them. "These are the three of you—" You mean," Harry whispered, "that we're both in the closet and outside?"
“Yes,” Hermione nodded, her ear still pressed against the door, “you’re moving very slowly because you’re hidden in the Invisibility Cloak—it’s like Schrödinger’s cat…” Sophia added from the side.
She stopped, still listening intently to the fading footsteps.
"No, it's you who have already stepped down." She finally sat down, sighed with her head down, but her tense expression had not completely dissipated.
Harry stared at Hermione, a ton of questions swirling in his mind. "Where did you get that hourglass?"
"It's called the Time-Turner," Hermione whispered, her eyes fixed on the cabinet door. "Professor McGonagall gave it to me on my first day back at school."
"I used it to attend all my classes that year."
"Professor McGonagall made me swear not to tell anyone."
"She wrote many letters to the Ministry of Magic to get this for me. She had to prove to them that I was a model student and would never use it for anything other than my studies."
"Then, I can turn back time and relive a certain period of time, which is why I can attend several classes at the same time, understand?"
"But—" Hermione's tone suddenly became hesitant, "Harry, I don't know why Dumbledore wanted us to turn back three hours. Why does he think it will help Sirius? What can we do?"
Harry stared at her, his mind still a mess.
He looked at Hermione's dim face and could sense her confusion and anxiety.
"Something must have happened during this time, something he wants us to change," Harry said in a low voice, speaking slowly, as if struggling to gather his thoughts. "What happened? Three hours ago, we were heading towards Hagrid."
“It was three hours ago, and you were heading towards Hagrid,” Hermione corrected. “We just heard your footsteps, which means you’ve already set off.” This series of shifts in perspective has completely turned Ron’s head into mush.
He opened his mouth as if to interject, but in the end he only made a muffled gurgling sound before closing his mouth again.
Ever since his pet mouse Scabbers, which he had raised for many years, turned into Peter Pettigrew, his worldview seemed to have been shattered by a giant hammer.
Buckbeak's defeat in court, Scabbers suddenly becoming Peter, Sirius's "injustice," and now time travel—these events came one after another like a tide, shattering all his cognition and understanding.
"I just want to catch my mouse—" Ron finally muttered, his voice filled with a sense of collapse and helplessness, "and then it just never ends."
At that moment, he suddenly felt very tired.