Scrimgeour looked at Harry, then at Sirius, and at the professors and students around him. He reached into his robes, his eyes fixed on Black, and spoke carefully: "Potter, I mean that perhaps there is some hidden story behind what happened back then."

"But Blake is also likely to be a person who is very good at playing with people's hearts..."

"He doesn't have the brains," Harry interrupted. "Now, let's go to Dumbledore's office. It would be best if we could get Minister Fudge as well."

"Yes," Scrimgeour nodded. "But Black must first ..."

Harry frowned. "I am very impatient now and don't want to waste any more time talking. Mr. Scrimgeour, he is here and he can't run away."

"He must be in the hands of the Ministry," Scrimgeour insisted.

Harry looked at him coldly, not intending to pay any attention to him, and led the way into the castle.

Scrimgeour moved to stop him.

The Dementors formed a circle around the periphery, exuding a cold, desperate aura without any concealment. Sirius turned pale, and Hermione and Ron didn't feel well either.

"Get out of the way." Harry looked at him.

Scrimgeour waved his hand: "Catch Sirius."

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at him.

The Aurors hesitated to step forward.

Not being able to beat Harry is one thing, but Hogwarts also has Dumbledore, the most powerful white wizard who puts students first in his heart.

Scrimgeour glared at his subordinate fiercely, spat, and then stared at Sirius: "Harry, I know you are very powerful, and I also know that you can cast the Patronus Charm."

"I'm sorry about what happened on the Quidditch field that day, but you should also know that your Patronus can't deal with so many Dementors."

"Don't make it so ugly, okay?"

Harry said nothing, but made hand seals and put the golden shield on his body.

Scrimgeour waved his wand.

The Dementors received the signal and excitedly pounced on the group of people.

"Don't hurt the little wizards. Catch the dirtiest one among them!" Scrimgeour ordered with a cold face.

Harry raised his wand.

His eyes were cold, like a cat's eyes, like knives.

The anger that could not be vented on Peter accumulated in his heart.

Awesome.

This is the Ministry of Magic.

He knew the reason very well. The chips piled together from these young wizards and professors were far less important than the reputation of the Ministry of Magic.

Even if it's just half a day, he or they can't wait.

"Scrimgeour, you've really gone too far this time!" Harry gritted his teeth, and the magic power in his body was gathering.

Scrimgeour turned his head aside. "Potter, you are still young now. When you grow up and become the head of the Auror Office or the Dean, you will understand me."

The Dementors waved their shadows, passing through him, one after another, like the wind blowing, rushing in.

And winter snow, accompanied by cold wind.

Cracking sound, it's about to freeze this winter.

"Expect God to Guard!"

Harry chanted the spell.

The wand in his hand was made of vine wood, and a powerful force responded to his dragon heartstrings, and along with his pent-up emotions, it burst out like a volcanic eruption.

The silvery-white light trembles.

Scrimgeour sighed. Even now, he was still shocked that a third-grade wizard could use this spell so well.

Even among the Aurors, less than one-third knew this spell.

And it's a lion.

The best Gryffindor, his patronus is a lion, nothing like it...

In the silver light.

An eagle's head popped out, followed by the slender and strong body of a lion and a pair of broad wings on its back.

Scrimgeour's mouth dropped open.

The Aurors looked on in disbelief.

Lupin and Sirius had twinkles in their eyes.

Silver Gryffindor!

Harry's Patronus changes, just as Dumbledore's did, from a normal creature to a magical creature, from a lion to a griffin.

It spread its wings and a strong gust of wind swept away.

The Dementors were unable to resist this force and were swept away.

With a swipe of his claws, these things scattered into pieces.

Lupin raised his wand.

He called out his patronus, a handsome silver wolf. However, compared to the ferocious appearance of ordinary wolves, it was as obedient as a dog.

Hermione raised her wand as well.

The cedar wand vibrated, adjusting its aura to match her magic, gently and smoothly, like a trickle of water thawed in spring, allowing the spell to be cast.

"Expecto Guardian!"

The silver-white mist inhaled and exhaled, and under the influence of the griffin, it gathered with difficulty and condensed into a still somewhat illusory entity, and a lioness landed on the ground.

Pounce on the nearest Dementor.

Sirius and Ron raised their wands as well.

But it only spewed out a cloud of thick silver-white mist.

The griffin swept across, and the large group of Dementors were quickly driven away, fleeing in panic from the front.

Only a group of Aurors were left.

The griffin flew back, walked behind Harry, shook its wings, and lay down. Together with Harry, it stared at Scrimgeour with a pair of cat eyes and a pair of eagle eyes.

"So, now, Director Scrimgeour, can you come with us to see Dumbledore?" Harry's tone was calm, as calm as the snowstorm that had suddenly stopped.

Scrimgeour took a half step back, took a deep breath, and nodded with difficulty: "Of course, Mr. Potter."

"Very good." Harry put his wand away and put the sword back into the Sorting Hat.

He walked slowly forward until he was in front of Scrimgeour.

Suddenly, a punch came out and hit him in the abdomen, causing the middle-aged man to tense his back, arch his body, squat down holding his stomach, tears welling up in his eyes.

The other Aurors tensed.

"I punched him because I was angry." Harry pulled him up with a serious look on his face.

Scrimgeour's face was still blue, he gritted his teeth and held his breath: "Mr. Potter, I know you are very unhappy, but you can be gentler."

"If I use force, you won't be able to get up now." Harry said softly.

Scrimgeour's face turned even greener.

After a long while, he finally regained some strength and followed Harry tremblingly towards the castle. The Aurors behind him pretended not to see anything and whistled and pretended to patrol around.

Read the command skillfully.

They walked into the office.

Before Dumbledore could greet him, he saw Sirius, pushed up his glasses, and said in surprise: "Black? Harry, is he the one who's been keeping your and Lupin's secret for a while?"

"You should have told me that he is still somewhat dangerous after all..."

Harry shook his head: "He is safe. You are his headmaster, you should know him. Well, you still have something in your mind. My dear godfather..."

Sirius almost barked, "Hey, Harry, I was in the top ten in my grade."

In the office, a group of people had indifferent faces.

Is being in the top ten in your grade something to be proud of?

Is there anyone here who has ever fallen out of the top five in the grade?

Lupin patted his shoulder sympathetically: "Everyone here has better academic performance than you."

Sirius looked from Harry to Dumbledore, then his gaze fell on Ron.

"I was fifth in my first year and third in my second year." Ron smiled shyly.

Sirius' eyes widened in disbelief.

How is that possible!

He looked so ordinary.

"Don't refute those who rank eighth or ninth, or even fall out of the top ten." Lupin comforted him, waved his wand, and pulled a chair over. "Sit down and have a good rest. You've worked hard during this period."

Sirius sat down stupidly.

Crookshanks jumped onto his knees and fell asleep on his stomach.

Dumbledore watched this scene thoughtfully.

Harry waved his wand and put the bag behind him on the ground: "Actually, the godfather is not a secret between Uncle Lupin and me, but this thing."

With two whooshes, the rope tied to the bag flew away.

A head immediately rolled out.

The short, headless body in the bag was also exposed.

Scrimgeour's eyes widened. He looked at Harry in disbelief: "Mr. Potter, you..."

"Peter Pettigrew?" Dumbledore was equally surprised; he recognized this man.

"Peter?" Scrimgeour's heart was in turmoil. "Is it the heroic Peter?"

Harry nodded.

Scrimgeour frowned. "But wasn't he dead thirteen years ago? In that explosion, he was blown to pieces..."

"That rat did it!" Sirius gritted his teeth.

Scrimgeour turned to look at him. "That's not what you said thirteen years ago."

Sirius paused and lowered his head in grievance.

"According to what is known to all, including Mr. Black," Dumbledore nodded in agreement, "Peter only left one finger."

"This is very surprising to me, Harry. Can you tell me more about it?"

He waved his hands, chairs flew around, and he asked everyone to sit down.

He produced another drink, his was still syrup, and the one for Harry was a glass of butterbeer.

"Thirteen years ago, the secret keeper in my parents' home was not my godfather, but Peter." Harry took a sip of his drink and spoke calmly, "He betrayed my parents, and my godfather went after him."

"Peter used the Explosion Curse to fake his own death."

"And the Godfather thought he was the one who killed him because his brain wasn't good enough..."

"Harry," Sirius pleaded.

Harry paused, then immediately changed his words: "For reasons we all know, he felt that he was responsible for my parents' death, so he didn't argue, and even took the blame for killing more than a dozen Muggles, and made Azkaban his home for thirteen years."

Sirius finished the whiskey in his glass and looked at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore waved his wand and refilled his glass.

"And Peter had been lurking in the Weasley household, first becoming Bill, then Percy, and finally Ron's pet, living and eating with them for thirteen years."

Ron covered his face in pain.

"This year, Fudge brought the newspaper to Azkaban, and Sirius saw the Weasleys who won the lottery, and the rat, on the front page."

“So, he escaped from prison.”