Chapter 842
Associations about Rats
Chapter 842 Associations about Rats
Percy had absolutely no patience for this pointless conversation, and after hearing how many people had visited the nursing home, he knew this trip was destined to be fruitless.
He irritably shifted his gaze from Edward and swept it across the activity hall outside the office.
A small television set hung on the stained wall, and about three or four elderly people were looking up at it. The rest of them seemed to be out of their minds, sitting in chairs with vacant eyes, drool dripping uncontrollably onto their dirty bibs.
Suddenly, a foul stench wafted over, and Percy quickly covered his nose, his face showing an expression of unbearable discomfort.
A caregiver strode over, cursing rudely, and pushed an elderly man slumped in a chair out of the activity hall.
The others seemed to have neither smelled nor heard anything, their blank expressions remaining unchanged.
Percy clearly realized that this was a group of people waiting to die.
Or rather, they were already "dead" long ago—dead to their family and friends, and to society as a whole, leaving only a breath, still gasping for air in their broken shells.
Percy's brow furrowed tightly, and his lips pressed into a stern line.
He instinctively straightened his back, as if trying to distance himself from the suffocating decay and corruption, and strode out of the activity hall with his head held high.
A series of intermittent sobs suddenly came.
Percy tried to pretend he couldn't hear, but he couldn't help but follow the direction from which the sound came.
—It's that old man who lost control of his bladder just now.
He was roughly pushed to the corner of the corridor by the caregiver and then left unattended, like a forgotten piece of old furniture.
The old man slumped helplessly in the chair, sobbing uncontrollably.
Percy stiffened.
"This is none of my business... I'm here on a mission. Just wait, the caregiver will be here soon to deal with this smelly little problem..."
Percy muttered to himself, but his body seemed to move on its own, as if reason was wrestling with something deeper.
“This is so undignified…this nursing home, and everyone here!”
He muttered to himself, using his body to block the view that might come from inside the activity hall, and his wand slid out of his sleeve and waved at the old man!
【Completely cleaned and refreshed!】
Percy could easily and silently cast such a simple spell.
The faint magical light flashed and disappeared in an instant, the filth and stench vanished, the old man continued to cry for a while, then blinked blankly, and suddenly started to laugh foolishly.
Percy quickly put his wand away, his ears turning slightly red as if he had done something wrong.
He quickly turned around, wanting to walk back to Fuller's side, but as he passed a table, someone suddenly grabbed his hem.
An old woman who had been staring blankly at the building blocks on the table, seemingly completely dumbfounded, looked up at him intently, then suddenly grinned:
"Witch... Wizard?"
She said vaguely.
"what?!"
Percy was startled; he almost jumped up, his hand instinctively reaching for his wand, ready to secretly cast a forgetfulness spell on the other person.
"Who are you? You... you saw everything just now?"
Percy asked, his voice tense.
The old woman ignored his question, looked around at herself, and then pointed with her withered finger in a certain direction deep in the corridor.
"Control your people..."
She spoke in a dreamlike tone, her voice muffled:
"They always let the mice out, chattering away... It's so annoying... They almost chewed up my shoes..."
Percy asked, with a look of surprise and uncertainty:
"Rats? Our people? What do you mean? And there's a... wizard here?"
The old woman stopped talking, as if she had forgotten what she had just said. She loosened her grip on Percy's clothes and swayed unconsciously.
She had returned to her closed-off world, leaving Percy frozen in place, a chill running down his spine.
As Percy connected "wizard" and "rat," a figure immediately flashed through his mind.
—Peter Pedirou.
That was the greatest humiliation he never wanted to mention in his life. Fortunately, unlucky Ron helped to share most of that shame, and few people remembered that the rat had also been Percy's pet.
Is it possible that guy is in this place?
Since his escape from Azkaban, he has vanished without a trace. Occasionally, there are reports of people seeing him, but when the Aurors arrive, they always find it to be a false alarm.
The Ministry of Magic also increasingly disliked bringing up the matter, because each time it was mentioned, it meant repeatedly reminding them of their incompetence.
Gradually, the entire magical world seemed to have forgotten about those three people, as if the prison break had never happened.
Could that guy... possibly be here?
Percy turned sharply and quickened his pace toward Fuller.
"In my opinion, that guy is definitely dead already! As for the so-called recovery, it's just some people using this as a gimmick to create news!"
Fuller and Edward had somehow started drinking. Edward downed a whole glass of gin and slurred a complaint:
"They're chasing attention and making money, and all the trouble has fallen on me! If Cornelius Dawan ever shows up in front of me, I'll shove his head down the toilet!"
Fuller, also quite drunk, nodded and agreed, saying:
"Exactly, there are always those guys who make trouble out of nothing, showing off how capable they are in front of their bosses all day long. I hate people like that the most! As for work... just get by, and life will pass by, right?"
"Hahaha, that's right!"
Edward slapped the table in agreement, raised his glass, and said, "Cheers! To the holidays, to the pension, to doing nothing!"
Fuller raised his glass in agreement, saying, "To every undisturbed morning! Afternoon! Evening!"
Percy froze again, his tense face turning red and then blue.
He paused for a moment, then turned and left!
Thinking about it carefully, I realized that the idea that Peter Pediru was in this sanatorium was truly baseless. If I had actually said it just now, it might have become a laughing stock in the Ministry of Magic for the next few years!
Calm down, Weasley!
How can you take the words of a mentally unstable old woman seriously?
He told himself this in his heart.
There couldn't possibly be a wizard here... because if there were a wizard hiding in the sanatorium, Edward and the caregiver wouldn't be completely unaware.
Even if wizards do exist, most wizards can turn small things like teacups or handkerchiefs into mice, which is hardly any amazing magic!
To immediately associate the word "rat" with Peter Pedirou is truly insane!
It's because the atmosphere here is so oppressive that people can't help but think the worst.
Percy's mind raced with various thoughts. Reason told him it was impossible, but a curiosity mixed with a sense of responsibility drove him to take a step and carefully follow the direction the old woman pointed.
The walls of the corridor were a dark yellow, with the lower half almost entirely covered in gray-black mold. Half of the fluorescent lights overhead were not working, and the rest emitted a persistent, annoying buzzing sound.
Percy passed by several wards and saw that some were filled with blankets and clothes, some had patients lying unconscious in bed, and some were empty and showed no signs of life.
At the end, he saw a tightly closed door, and the small window on the door had been covered with magazines.
The simple plastic sign displays the residents' basic information:
Name: Eugene Brown
[Care Level: Dementia Care]
[Important Note: Fear of crowds, resistance to care]
It really wasn't Peter Pediru!
Percy breathed a sigh of relief.
But since he was already there, he still subconsciously wanted to see the last ward, so he casually cast an unlocking spell on the locked door.
"Click!"
The door slid open easily.
The room was small and dimly lit, with only a small lamp by the bedside emitting a faint light. There was a faint smell of dust in the room, as if it hadn't been cleaned in a long time.
A short man, with his back to the door, was curled up on the bed, quietly eating his lunch.
Percy's heart skipped a beat!
The man's posture... really resembles a mouse stealing food!
Before he could react further, the man on the bed turned around abruptly upon hearing the door open—
Oily, sparse hair, slightly chubby cheeks, a timid and nervous expression, and wide, startled eyes that held a hint of cowardice and a touch of moisture...
For a moment, Percy's breath caught in his throat.
(End of this chapter)