Harry Potter: Glory Bows to Me

"Trouble, if the master hadn't ordered not to alert the enemy, this kid would have been dealt with directly."

Peter Pettigrew seemed to be looking at Sparaud and seemed to remember something funny and he gave a high-pitched chuckle.

This behavior made him look even more like a gutter rat.

Damn it! Amanta bit her lip.

She actually forgot about it.

There was a dangerous man lurking in Hogwarts, Voldemort's most loyal servant - but before his identity was revealed, his presence was so weak that Amanta actually forgot his existence.

Everyone who knew him thought that Peter Pettigrew had been dead for a long, long time. But in fact... he had been lurking here all along.

Peter Pettigrew is an Animagus, a wizard's ability to transform into animals.

In other words, Peter Pettigrew can turn into a mouse.

Over the years, he somehow became the pet of Percy, the Gryffindor prefect.

Then when Ron entered school this year, Percy gave it to Ron, and it became Ron's pet again.

Damn it, they had hardly any contact with Ron since they entered school, so she had completely forgotten about this person...

And what surprised her most was that Peter Pettigrew actually knew the news of Voldemort's resurrection in advance.

It seemed that Voldemort had given him some tasks, and Amanta had a bad feeling.

"Who are you? What do you want to do?"

Sparaud yelled in horror.

"Boy, this is not something you should know."

Peter Pettigrew tapped Sparaud's flushed cheek with his wand, leaving a burning mark on Sparaud's face.

Spalau screamed in pain.

"Do you still dare to talk nonsense?"

Peter Pettigrew pressed his wand tightly against Sparaud's lips, as if waiting for him to open his mouth in order to thrust it in.

Sparaud whimpered in his throat and struggled backwards.

Peter Pettigrew retracted his wand with satisfaction and looked at Amanta, whose face had turned slightly pale.

"Now let's talk about you, Amanta Merlin, whose fame almost surpassed Harry Potter's as soon as she entered school. You're the only heir of the Merlin family. Hahahahahahahaha..."

He laughed a shrill, creepy laugh.

"What do you want to do?"

Amanta took a deep breath and calmed down slightly.

Judging from the current situation, Peter Pettigrew had no intention of killing them immediately.

After all, she and Sparaud were just tied up. If Peter Pettigrew wanted to kill them, he could just throw two Avada Kedavra at them when they came over.

What made her a little uneasy was that she didn't know what Peter Pettigrew was up to.

It's a good thing. It's a good thing.

"Well, Miss Merlin, I hope you can cooperate with me on some matters... Otherwise, you and your poor classmate will have to endure unimaginable suffering, hehe."

Peter Pettigrew poked her neck with his wand, and Amanda felt a burning sensation on her neck.

"Really? Then tell me what happened."

Her voice was cold, and her eyes were fixed on Peter Pettigrew's ugly rat face without any fluctuation.

Then her eyes slowly...quietly moved to Peter Pettigrew's hand holding the wand.

Concentrate—imagine—getting his wand out—

Ok?

Why...it’s useless?

Amanta's eyes were slightly stunned.

Did she make a mistake because she was too nervous? No, that's not right. She was clearly very stable just now.

She tried several times...but Peter Pettigrew still held his wand firmly in his hand.

Noticing Amanta's gaze, Peter Pettigrew smiled strangely.

"Wandless magic? Hehe, the master has reminded me a long time ago... It's really tricky, but I have set up a spell here in advance. You can't use any magic here, hehe, hahahahahaha..."

Amanta narrowed her eyes coldly.

Peter Pettigrew always laughed loudly at inappropriate times, and his protruding mouth and buck teeth made it hard not to feel disgusted.

"So, what do you want to do?"

She asked bluntly, her hands fumbling with the knot behind her back.

Even though this is a binding state caused by a spell, it looks like a physical binding made of thick ropes and should be able to be untied or ground open.

...Damn it, Amanta couldn't help but curse in her heart, this rope is too thick.

Peter Pettigrew did not notice her actions and continued talking to himself.

"Yeah, right... hehe, it's nothing. We just want a little of your blood."

He fished out a notebook with a matte black leather cover and gold foil wrapped corners from his bosom.

"..."

Amanta looked at this ordinary and unremarkable book, but she felt an inexplicable sense of irritation in her heart.

She suppressed the strange irritation in her heart.

Only Horcruxes can interfere with a person's mental state.

I'm afraid this is one of Voldemort's Horcruxes - judging by its appearance, it should be Tom Riddle's diary...

Peter Pettigrew pulled her roughly towards him and pulled out a knife.

He weighed the knife, as if considering where to cut her.

The cold blade lingered on her neck for a moment, but did not cut any further - he tore open her Quidditch uniform and slashed across her shoulder.

The blood instantly stained her shirt red.

Amanta groaned in pain.

Behind her, Sparaud watched Peter Pettigrew's actions with anger and fear.

"I don't care who you are, you're breaking the law, you know that? You're going to be sent to Azkaban--" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Obliviate." Peter Pettigrew poked his chin with his tongue. "Gryffindor always produces people like you who love to talk nonsense. Just like James, humph... always like to preach useless things."

After being cast the spell of forgetfulness, Spalau fell to the ground and fainted.

Peter Pettigrew chuckled again and opened the blank pages of the notebook.

"My Lord... This is the blood that contains the powerful power of Merlin's bloodline. It is exactly what you need... Enjoy it with peace of mind."

He roughly grabbed Amanta's arm and pulled her towards him.

Realizing what he was trying to do, Amanta twisted her shoulders hard, trying to avoid the notebook.

But her body and strength at the age of only eleven were no match for a man in his thirties.

“Struggle. I just like seeing you guys being so helpless and twisted…hahahahaha…of course, everything I do is to serve my respected master.”

Peter Pettigrew laughed shrilly and pressed the notebook against Amanta's wound.

The blood quickly disappeared from her shoulder, along with the blood that soaked into her shirt - and the blank inside pages of the diary were not even stained with blood.

The diary was greedily absorbing her blood, like a baby sucking its mother's milk greedily.