Harry Potter and the Ambitious Girl

The news of Buckbeak's execution left Harry and his friends restless, but in truth, there was nothing they could do. They were only thirteen-year-old children, powerless to overturn decisions made by the Ministry of Magic.

Dejected, Harry and Hermione walked silently, while Edith tried to cheer them up by patting their shoulders. Hagrid had driven them away, determined not to let them witness Buckbeak's cruel end, but that only added to their sorrow. Unable to even share Hagrid's pain, they were left imagining the moment when Buckbeak's head would be struck down. Hagrid's tearful cries, faintly audible from afar, made it all too real.

"How can those people do something so heartless?" Hermione sobbed, condemning the Ministry's cruelty. Harry and Edith had no words to offer in response, only silence. Was this truly the limit of what they could do as students? No matter how many times they questioned themselves, no answers came—only deepening despair.

As they walked, Harry suddenly caught sight of something familiar out of the corner of his eye. It was a creature he hadn't seen all year, one that shouldn't even be at Hogwarts.

"Scabbers?!"

It was a rat, unmistakably Ron's pet Scabbers, who was supposed to be recovering at St. Mungo's Hospital. But Ron wasn't here, so why was Scabbers? Bewildered, Harry watched as the rat scurried off toward the Whomping Willow. Without thinking, Harry bolted after it.

"Harry?! What's wrong?!" Hermione cried, startled.

"Scabbers! I just saw Scabbers!" Harry shouted back, explaining as he ran. Edith, still unsure of the situation, followed along with Hermione as they chased after Harry. The small rat darted to a hole at the base of the Whomping Willow. The three of them tried to follow but were stopped by the tree's wildly thrashing branches.

"How do we get past this thing?!" Harry cursed in frustration.

As if answering his plight, Scabbers leapt onto one of the tree's knots. Instantly, the Whomping Willow fell silent, its violent movements ceasing. As the rat disappeared into the hole, Harry sprang forward, ready to follow, but Edith called out to stop him.

"Wait, Harry! Don't you think that rat is trying to lure you in?"

"It must be trying to show us something important!" Harry argued.

While Edith remained wary of the rat's odd behavior, Harry, trusting Scabbers as Ron's pet, dismissed her concerns and dashed into the hole. With no other choice, Hermione and Edith reluctantly followed him.

The tunnel they entered was narrow and dark. They illuminated their wands and advanced cautiously, searching for the rat. The passage felt endless, stretching on for what seemed like hours before they finally emerged into a small, dilapidated room. Broken furniture lay scattered about, and all the windows were boarded up.

"Harry… this is the Shrieking Shack," Hermione whispered, her voice trembling.

Only then did Harry realize where they were—one of Hogsmeade's most infamous landmarks, said to echo with mysterious screams on moonlit nights. But why would Scabbers know of such a place? As he pondered this, Edith noticed a shadowy figure hiding in the corner of the room.

"Incarcerous!" she shouted, sending ropes flying toward Harry, Hermione, and herself, binding them tightly. The unexpected attack caused Harry to fall to the ground, glaring up at the assailant.

Emerging from the shadows was a small, thin man with unkempt, graying hair and a balding crown. His dirty skin, sharp nose, and beady eyes gave him a rodent-like appearance. The wand he held was a familiar one—it had once belonged to Ron.

"Who are you?!" Harry demanded, his voice defiant even as he lay helpless.

The man sneered, unfazed by Harry's bravado. "Who am I? Quite the question, given that I've been by your side since you first came to Hogwarts."

"What nonsense are you spouting?! I've never met you before!" Harry shouted back.

"Never met me? Oh, Harry… I was there when Ronald nearly hexed me. I heard him complain about me being useless and envy your owl," the man sneered.

Harry's mind raced. The man's words made no sense—he couldn't possibly have been with them all this time. And yet, with a smug grin, the man declared, "I am Scabbers, Harry Potter."

The name sent a shiver down Harry and Edith's spines. Hermione, her face pale with shock, whispered, "An Animagus…"

"And I was once a student named Peter Pettigrew."

"That's a lie! He should be dead!"

Harry instinctively shouted out to deny the man's words.

Peter Pettigrew… that was the name of a man who had once been a close friend of his father. He was the poor soul who, in a reckless attempt to face Sirius Black alone, had been almost completely erased from existence, leaving only a finger behind when his parents were killed.

It couldn't be! There was no way this man could be the one who had attacked them!

But the man, with a mocking sneer, continued speaking.

"Yes, I made everyone believe I was dead… I sacrificed a finger, and tricked Sirius into thinking I was gone… The one person who was always superior to me, the talented, admired Sirius, I was the first to outdo him."

If what Harry knew was true, this man should be on their side. He had to be. But something inside him told Harry that he couldn't possibly trust him. There was no trace of goodwill in those dark, murky eyes—only a filthy malice.

"What does this mean? Didn't you challenge Sirius Black to avenge my parents?"

"That's what people think… And honestly, I think it was a brilliant move on my part. The only person who knew I was the real Secret Keeper was Sirius."

Harry was momentarily stunned, unable to comprehend the words. He didn't want to swallow the truth that had been casually stated.

Did he just say… the real Secret Keeper? This rat of a man was claiming that?

"The Secret Keeper."

It was the ultimate protection, used to hide those close to you. A charm so powerful that only the person who knew the secret could reveal the location. James and Lily had used this spell to safeguard their home, choosing Sirius as the Secret Keeper.

Because of this, the world—and Harry—believed without a doubt that Sirius had betrayed his parents.

"Y-you? You… you're the one who betrayed my parents?"

"It was inevitable… The Dark Lord was far too terrifying to defy… So I revealed the secret to him and received his permission. But the Dark Lord was defeated by a child, and I lost my place."

The man who had once seemed pitiable now appeared unbearably ugly to Harry. This man… this man had betrayed his parents! He had killed them!

Rage blurred Harry's vision, and he clenched his fists so hard that blood seemed to well up in his palms.

"Sirius chased me, trying to kill me… but I won. He was sent to Azkaban, and I found peace."

The filthy man grinned smugly, boasting of his victory. Harry wanted nothing more than to punch that smirk off his face, but his body wouldn't obey. He had never wished for freedom of movement more in his life. Not to protect himself, but to kill this man.

"But I was hunted. Not only by Sirius Black, but by other Death Eaters… It was only natural. I had caused the Dark Lord to lose his power with the information I gave him. So it was inevitable that I would become a target. To stay safe, I was forced to live as a pet in a wizard's house… It was a miserable life, but at least I found security and peace."

A life beneath the dignity of a human being, betrayed by his friends. But to this man, it had been happiness, of a sort. A life free of threat. That was all he ever wanted.

"But now, it's all over… Sirius came to Hogwarts to kill me. If I leave this school, I'll be found by the Death Eaters. If I stay, Sirius will kill me. I have no choice but to offer your life as a gift and return to the Dark Lord."

"You… filthy bastard!"

Peter's calm, detached words only fueled Harry's growing desire to kill. His parents' murderer was right in front of him, and yet, he couldn't do anything!

How could this be? How could it feel so helpless?

"Please don't hate me... I had no choice but to do this."

It wasn't his fault. It was inevitable.

While making these excuses, Peter raised his wand.

Most likely, some dark magic would be cast from here.

Even knowing that, Harry could do nothing.

He clenched his teeth in frustration and continued to glare at Peter.

And then—

—Edith kicked Peter from the side.

"Ugh!?"

Peter spun through the air and crashed to the ground, looking up at Edith.

The ropes... were gone.

He was sure they had been tied up with Harry and Hermione, yet somehow, she had completely escaped.

Peter was confused, not understanding the reason, but to Edith, it wasn't difficult at all.

What she had done was simple: she had grabbed her wand before being tied up... just that.

In the one second it took for Peter to notice her, Edith had grabbed her wand, but she had been bound by the ropes before she could act.

But as long as she had her wand, she could use magic! And that was why she could cut through Peter's ropes and stand up alone.

"Don't… interfere!"

Peter, enraged, drew his wand, and at the same moment, Edith cast her spell.

"Stupefy!"

"Locomotor Air!"

Edith cast the spell to move objects.

Locomotor was a versatile charm where the name of the object to be moved is spoken after the spell.

Edith chose herself as the target and soared into the air!

She dodged the red flash of Peter's spell and spun in midair! She combined the speed of her fall with a spinning kick, striking Peter's shoulder.

"Ugh!?"

The thin man groaned in pain but tried to aim his wand at Edith.

But before he could do so, Edith had already vanished from his sight.

Where had she gone?

As Peter puzzled over this, Edith reappeared from behind him and struck him with an elbow, her high-speed magic-powered movement making the blow impossible to avoid.

In a magical duel, most of the combat involves casting spells at a distance.

You point your wand, cast a spell (sometimes without speaking a word), and then launch the magic.

These three actions—or sometimes just two—make up the majority of attacks. But conversely, if you can't aim properly, you can do nothing.

Peter, who had fallen to the ground, quickly rose and searched for Edith. But she had already disappeared from his sight again.

And once more, a blow from his blind spot sent him flying.

"Ugh...!? How primitive, for a wizard to do such a thing...!?"

"Sorry about that."

Edith Rynagru was originally a student skilled in practical magic.

To be more specific, she was a sensory-type wizard who excelled at physically moving her body.

Rather than thinking things through, she would act first.

"This is how this thing is supposed to be used," or "This is what this object is for."

She had no constraints in her thinking. Half of what was taught in class was quickly pushed out of her mind.

She would cram for tests in the last three days before the exam, but after the test, she would forget it all again.

It was this approach that led to her unconventional use of magic.

However—despite this—Peter still had more experience.

The thin, sly man caught sight of Harry and the others from the corner of his eye and grinned sinisterly.

Edith must have sensed his intention from that look.

In a hurry, she moved to shield Harry and the others, and at the same time, Peter cast his spell.

"Stupefy!"

"Ugh…!"

Edith, unable to abandon Harry and Hermione, took the full brunt of the Stunning Spell head-on and was blasted away.

She dropped her wand and crashed into the wall, collapsing powerless to the floor.

Though she seemed to be barely conscious, it was clear that if left alone, she would soon lose her awareness completely.

Peter, panting, grinned triumphantly.

"It's over... this time, it's really over...!"

The ropes binding Harry and Hermione still hadn't been undone.

Struggling to free himself, Harry clenched his teeth in frustration at his own helplessness.

While Edith fought, he had done nothing... worse, he had even gotten in the way!

How powerless! How pathetic!

Fueled by anger toward himself, Harry glared at Peter.

But then, someone suddenly grabbed Peter by the head.

"Ah, you're right. It's over... for you."

A fist collided with Peter's face.

The one who had knocked the pitiful little man aside was someone even thinner than Peter.

His hair was dirty, his face gaunt like a skull.

His beard had grown out of control, and his clothes were in tatters.

He picked up the wand Peter had dropped and swung it.

With that, the ropes binding Harry and Hermione unraveled as if they had never been there, setting them free.

"Harry... Harry Potter... Harry James Potter.

I've wanted to meet you... I've longed to see you... my friend's legacy."

The man said these words, trembling with emotion, and took Harry's hand.

It was as if he had just found a long-sought treasure, a gesture filled with joy.

And that was all Edith saw.

She witnessed the reunion of Sirius Black and Harry Potter... and then, her consciousness faded into darkness.

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