Percy had no patience to listen to these unsubstantial dialogues. After hearing that so many people had visited the retirement home, he knew this trip was destined to be fruitless.
Annoyed, he shifted his gaze from Edward, scanning the activity hall outside the office.
A small television hung on the stained walls, with about three or four elderly people looking up at it. The others seemed to be mentally unclear, sitting in chairs with empty eyes, drool uncontrollably dripping onto the dirty bibs on their chests.
Suddenly, a foul stench wafted through, and Percy quickly covered his nose, a look of unbearable discomfort appearing on his face.
A caregiver strode over, cursing unceremoniously as he pushed an elderly person slumped in a chair out of the activity hall.
The others seemed neither to have smelled anything nor heard any sound, their vacant expressions unchanged.
Percy clearly realized that this was a group of people waiting for death.
Or rather, they might as well be "dead" already—for family and friends, as well as society, they were as good as dead, leaving only a breath lingering in their decayed shells.
Percy's brows tightly furrowed, his lips pressed into a severe line.
He instinctively straightened his spine, as if he aimed to draw a boundary between himself and this suffocating decay and ruin, raising his head and striding out of the activity hall.
A series of intermittent sobbing sounds suddenly emerged.
Percy wanted to pretend he hadn't heard, but involuntarily followed the direction of the sound.
—It was that elderly person who had lost control earlier.
He had been rudely pushed to the corner of the corridor by the caregiver, left abandoned, like a forgotten old piece of furniture.
The elderly person was slumped helplessly in the chair, whimpering with distress.
Percy's body stiffened for a moment.
"This is none of my business... I'm here on a mission, wait a while, the caregiver will surely come to deal with his little stinky problem soon..."
Percy muttered, yet his body seemed to have its own will, moving over, a battle raging fiercely between reason and something deeper.
"So unsightly... This retirement home, and all the people in this place!"
He grumbled, using his body to block any prying eyes from gazing into the activity hall. His magic wand slid from the cuff, waving it toward the elderly person!
[Scourgify!]
Such a simple spell, Percy could naturally cast easily and silently.
A faint magical glow flashed and vanished, the filth and odor disappeared instantly, the elderly person continued to cry for a while, then blinked blankly, suddenly breaking into a foolish grin.
Percy swiftly stashed the magic wand away, as if he had just done something wrong, his ears reddening slightly.
He quickly turned, intending to stride back to Fuller, but as he passed a table, someone suddenly tugged at his clothes.
A seemingly completely dazed elderly woman, who had been staring blankly at the blocks on the table, looked up and scrutinized him, suddenly grinning:
"Wizard?"
She said unclearly.
"What?!"
Percy was startled, nearly jumping, his hand instinctively reaching for the magic wand, ready to secretly cast a Forgetfulness Spell on her.
"Who are you? Did you see everything just now?"
Percy asked tensely.
The elderly woman ignored his question, surveying the surroundings herself, then extending her withered finger, pointing towards some direction down the corridor.
"Your people... always releasing mice, chirping... so annoying... almost gnawed my shoe..."
Percy asked in shock and doubt:
"Mice? Our people? What do you mean? There's another... wizard here?"
Yet, the elderly woman stopped talking as if she had forgotten what she had just said, releasing Percy's clothes, her body swaying involuntarily.
She had returned to her enclosed world, leaving Percy frozen in place, his spine tingling with cold.
Linking "wizard" and "mouse," a figure immediately flickered in Percy's mind.
—Peter Pettigrew.
That was the greatest shame he would never mention in his life.
Fortunately, the unlucky Ron helped him share most of the humiliation, few people remembered that the mouse was once Percy's pet too.
——Could that guy possibly be in this place?
Ever since he escaped from Azkaban, he vanished without a trace. Occasionally, there are rumors that someone has seen his figure, but whenever the Aurors rush over, they always find it was just a false alarm.
The Ministry of Magic increasingly dislikes mentioning that incident, because every time it is brought up, it means repeatedly reminding them of their incompetence.
Gradually, the entire Magic World seems to have forgotten those three people, as if the prison break never happened.
Could that guy… possibly be in this place?
Percy suddenly turned his head and quickened his pace towards Fuller.
"In my opinion, that guy must have died a long time ago! As for the so-called recovery, surely some people are using it as a gimmick to create news!"
Fuller and Edward had somehow started drinking, and Edward downed an entire glass of gin, complaining with a slurred tongue:
"They make a fuss to gain attention and profit, and all the trouble comes to me! If Cornelius Dawan really appeared before me, I'd shove his head into the toilet!"
Fuller, also drunk, nodded and agreed, saying:
"Exactly, there are always those who look for trouble, showing off to their superiors how capable they are, I hate these kinds of people the most! Work… muddle through, isn't that how life goes by?"
"Hahaha, exactly!"
Edward slapped the table in agreement, raised his glass, and said: "Cheers! For the holidays, for the pension, for doing nothing!"
Fuller raised his glass in agreement too: "For every undisturbed morning! Afternoon! Evening!"
Percy's steps were stalled again, and his originally tense face turned inch by inch red, then blue.
He paused for a moment and turned to leave!
——Looking back, the idea that Peter Pettigrew might be in this wellness center was really unfounded. If he had really said it earlier, it might become a joke in the Ministry of Magic for years to come!
Calm down, Weasley!
How can you take seriously the words of a confused old lady?
He reminded himself.
There couldn't possibly be a wizard here… because if there was a wizard hiding in the wellness center, Edward and the caregivers wouldn't be completely unaware.
In the worst case, even if there really was a wizard, most wizards can turn small objects like teacups or handkerchiefs into rats, this is not anything impressive in magic!
To immediately associate a rat with Peter Pettigrew is really crazy!
It's the oppressive atmosphere of this place that makes people involuntarily think the worst.
Percy continuously turned over various thoughts in his mind, rationality told him this was impossible, but a curiosity mixed with a sense of responsibility urged him to step forward, cautiously walking in the direction the old woman pointed.
The corridor walls were a dark yellow, with the lower half almost entirely covered in grey-black mold, and half of the fluorescent lights overhead were not working, the remaining ones continuously emitted an irritating buzzing sound.
Percy passed several wards, seeing some haphazardly piled with blankets and clothes, some had patients lying in bed asleep, and others were empty, showing no sign of life.
At the end, he saw a tightly closed door, its small window was covered with magazines.
A simple plastic sign marked the resident's basic information:
[Name: Eugene Brown]
[Care Level: Dementia Care]
[Precautions: Fear of crowds, resistant to care]
Of course, it wasn't Peter Pettigrew!
Percy breathed a sigh of relief.
But since he was here, he instinctively wanted to see the last room and casually cast an Unlocking Charm on the locked door.
"Click!"
The door smoothly slid open.
The room inside was small and dim, with only a small lamp on the bedside emitting a faint glow, the room faintly permeated with the smell of dust, as if it hadn't been cleaned for a long time.
A short man was curled up on the bed with his back to the door, rustling as he ate his lunch.
Percy's heart violently trembled!
The man's posture… looked remarkably like a rat stealing food!
Before he could react further, as soon as he heard the door open, the man on the bed swiftly turned his head—
Greasy, sparse hair, slightly chubby cheeks, a timid and tense expression, and eyes widened in shock, carrying a bit of cowardice and moisture...
In an instant, Percy's breath halted.