Peter made a graceful arc and fell into the Black Lake.
"Wait, you—" Hermione tried to stop him, but Tom was quick, and the rat had already plunged into the water before she could scream.
"It's probably Ron's pet," Hermione unconsciously attempted to enter the lake to grab Scabbers. It would have been fine if it were just a rat, but it had an owner! This instinctively made Hermione feel a bit uneasy.
"Don't worry, I just saw it, it's not Ron's rat. Scabbers is missing a toe on one of his paws, and it was still there," Tom preferred to confuse her. He had been cunning enough to act as if he already knew Scabbers, and he had managed to gain Hermione's trust.
Hermione knew what Tom had just said about Scabbers' characteristics, and she had recognized Scabbers based on that. But seeing how determined Tom was, Hermione shuddered. She wondered, had she been wrong? She had been so sure of her own judgment, but when Tom said that, she started to suspect.
Tom knew Hermione's temperament very well. He would have gotten himself into trouble if he had simply said it wasn't Scabbers and that Hermione had made a mistake. Hermione would have made such an effort to prove him wrong, to show that she was right, that she would have jumped into the water and rescued Peter. So Tom made a small prediction, claiming he knew Scabbers' traits and had just verified them.
It's like two students reviewing their answers after an exam, and if you tell the teacher she's wrong, Miss Granger is going to argue with you and make sure you know who made the mistake. But if you say, "You used method xx, right? There's something wrong with that method..." she'll feel less certain.
Hermione was doubting herself now, but soon she shook her head. "Anyway, even if it's just an ordinary rat, Tom, you shouldn't throw it into the water."
"Don't worry about that." Tom squatted by the lake and washed his hands. "It's just a rat, rats are not good things, they brought the Black Plague in the Middle Ages. And their greatest sin is looking at you, only I can look at you!"
He made a very dominant statement, causing Hermione to chuckle.
"Alright, as you wish, no one else, not even animals." With that, Hermione, in a good mood, twirled around, her golden anklets making the backs of her feet even whiter.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked.
Tom nodded solemnly.
By then, Peter had settled on a rock at the edge of the Black Lake. It wasn't winter yet in September, but it was quite cold. In the early morning, the water of the Black Lake was as icy as ice, and Peter felt like he was freezing.
The cold wasn't the biggest problem, but rather the pain that tore through his lower body. The boy had just hit him so hard that his body had curled up, initially numbing, but it was only when he started swimming in the lake that the pain in his lower body became so intense that he almost drowned.
Peter lay on the lakeshore for a long time, as the water spots in his hair dried and the pain in his lower body diminished as an unidentified liquid seeped out. Upon hearing the sound of laughter carried by the breeze from afar, Peter felt a fire burning in his chest.
He wanted to return to his original form and crush the boy to death, and tear apart his girlfriend in front of him a few times before he could rid himself of the hatred he felt.
But in the end, Peter Pettigrew remained there, motionless.
"Patience!" he said to himself, "You must have patience!"
Seeking revenge on the boy now would only expose him and hinder his plans... Hold on, Peter! You must have patience.
Only after repeating it several times could he suppress his anger.
After a while, he overheard by chance that the boy named Tom and the mixed-blood girl named Hermione were returning to the castle. But two fragments of conversation reached his ears.
"Hermione... something's wrong... wait a moment."
"...alright."
Before Peter could even think about the conversation, footsteps were heard in the distance, and Peter was horrified. If the little devil found him, what kind of torture would he face if he didn't hide?
So he quietly stood up and tried to sneak away among the bushes, but as soon as he ventured into them, a stunning spell struck him in the back of the head, his eyes rolled back, and he fainted.
The stunning spell was cast by Tom, of course.
Reflecting, Tom decided to let Peter forget this not-so-good memory of today; he was on the verge of tears at his own kindness. So he put on his title, the Hound of the Baskervilles, enhanced his sense of smell, and found Peter's trail.
After rendering Peter unconscious, Tom cast a memory charm on him, making him forget the people and things he saw this morning.
Looking at the unconscious Peter, Tom pondered for a moment and, relying on his intuition, casually threw him into a hole in the ground not far away.
What Tom didn't know was that the hole belonged to the current generation of the "Rat King" and that the hole was their den and that of his wife. The king is not at home, but coincidentally, his wife is.
Hearing a noise, the mother mouse emerged from her hole and saw Peter unconscious.
"Kiki-kiki! (Who are you?! This is the palace of the great Winter Solstice Rat XVI!)."
"Kee? (Where do you come from?)"
"Kee~ (Quite sturdy, what a pretty belly~)"
The mother mouse stared at Peter for a while, and the more she looked at him, the more pleasant he seemed. Although Peter had been a human being, he had become a rat, but he was so handsome and dashing that she could qualify him as "handsome and dashing," so the mother mouse used her simple brain to think and acted on instinct: she dragged Peter further into the mouse's burrow and mounted him!
Peter woke up with a jolt, and as soon as he did, he saw a huge female mouse on top of him.
Peter: !!!
Peter's eyes widened, but after struggling for a bit, he felt somewhat more comfortable doing so... And upon closer inspection, the female was quite beautiful: shiny fur and a strong tail...
At that moment, the Rat King, Winter Solstice XVI, entered his love nest where his wife was, and upon entering, he smelled the scent of another male. He threw the food he found at the edge of the hole and, in three steps, entered the nest.
He peeked through the door and saw a scene that broke his heart: the love of his life, his wife, the woman of the great Winter Solstice XVI, was doing "that" to a strange, lowly male of questionable ancestry.
Furious, he bared his fangs and rushed into the cave.
Rat King: Bite!
Peter: !!!
In an instant, Peter hastily escaped from the nest, leaving a long trail of blood behind him.