"HP: Too Late, System!"Chapter 365: The Call to Bill
Dobby's shrill voice chased away the last remnants of Douglas's sleep.
"Morning, Dobby."
Douglas ruffled his messy hair and took the steaming towel Dobby handed him.
"What's for breakfast today?"
Dobby, dressed in a perfectly pressed miniature tailcoat, bowed and began his report. "Breakfast is your favorite, sir: Italian ricotta and wild mushroom bisque, Chinese steamed minced pork and cheese lava buns, British spiced slow-cooked amber eggs with runny yolks, and Spanish golden twisted breadsticks.
Today's Daily Prophet headline is about the Ministry of Magic implementing the new policy based on your proposal…"
Douglas paused, bemused by the menu. Then he glanced at the table: silken tofu pudding, xiaolongbao, tea eggs, and—of course—youtiao.
He couldn't help but sigh. Where had Dobby picked up these fancy new names?
"Dobby, let's just call these foods by their original names. Those are the names Eastern nobles have always used. Maybe ease up on the 'creative' reading material, yeah?"
If Dobby hadn't changed so much, Douglas would never dare criticize him so openly—otherwise, like most house-elves, he'd go into a self-punishing frenzy. But Dobby only nodded respectfully and scribbled a note in his little book.
While eating, Douglas asked, "Dobby, did you have any luck yesterday finding a suitable magic item workshop?"
Dobby immediately straightened up, ears perking. "Sir, Dobby has visited every shop listed for sale in Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. There are three that fit your requirements best."
Douglas nodded. "All right, discuss it with Lupin and the dog later. You three can decide on the location."
Originally, he'd planned to recruit a few graduates each year—production didn't need to be massive. But now that werewolves were involved, it made sense to let Lupin take the lead and offer some basic jobs to werewolves. It would make management easier later on, too.
"Sir, you have a call to return to Mr. Bill Weasley at precisely nine o'clock! Dobby must remind you, because you missed Mr. Weasley's call yesterday!"
Dobby wrung his little hands anxiously, as if the missed call were his own grave mistake.
After breakfast, Douglas checked the clock—still early. He headed to the study.
Sunlight slanted across the oak desk, dust motes dancing in the air. Not quite nine o'clock yet.
He was engrossed in research on magical runes when the phone rang in the living room.
Immediately, Dobby's sharp voice echoed, "Sir, it's Mr. Weasley!"
Douglas picked up. Before he could say a word, Bill Weasley's hearty laughter boomed down the line:
"Old Dao! You finally picked up! I called yesterday and thought maybe you'd been whisked away by some passionate werewolf lass!"
Bill had been his closest mate at Hogwarts. After graduation, Bill had joined Gringotts as a curse-breaker, spending years in Egypt wrestling with ancient tomb curses—a real tough nut.
Dobby helpfully brought over a chair. Douglas leaned back, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Sorry, werewolf girls just can't compare to Sb's charm."
(Note: Old Dao, Sb, and Cha were the nicknames for Douglas, Bill, and Charlie during their school days—see Chapter 103)
Bill snorted. "Knew it! Cha swore you'd fallen for a werewolf girl, that's why you're so obsessed with Wolfsbane Potion. You're famous now—Europe's entire magical world is talking about your potion."
Douglas's mouth twitched. Since when was Lupin a girl?
"I think Cha's the one in love with a dragon girl. Congratulations to the Weasleys on their new dragon bloodline, eh?"
Bill burst out laughing. "Ha! Cough—enough of that. Listen, I heard you've run into trouble. Even here in Egypt, word is that Greyback's got his eye on you. He hasn't crossed the border because the Aurors are crawling all over Britain these days.
So, Old Dao, need me to come back you up? Cha and I talked it over—we could both take leave, join forces, strike first. Hogwarts and the Ministry can't officially hunt him, but if the three of us work together, I bet we could track him down…"
A wave of warmth washed over Douglas. These two might act like goofballs most of the time, but when it mattered, they were the most reliable friends anyone could ask for.
He could picture Bill and Charlie, righteous fury in their eyes, eager to rush back to Britain and take action. Even knowing how dangerous Fenrir Greyback was, they were ready to risk everything for him—willing, even, to kill.
In the wizarding world, no matter how vile a criminal, the official policy was always capture and send them to Azkaban—only those deep in the Dark Arts ever truly harbored killing intent.
Knowing Bill and Charlie all these years, he'd never seen them suggest such a thing. But for him, they would.
His voice was a little rough as he replied, "All right, Sb, I get it. No need for polite words between brothers.
Greyback is a problem, but it's not so bad that you two need to drop everything in Egypt and Romania to hunt him down."
Bill sounded a bit dissatisfied. "Old Dao, that's not like you! Back at school, if someone crossed us, we'd handle it directly. Greyback's scum—why leave him breathing?"
Douglas chuckled, relaxing into the chair. "Times change. We were hotheads back then. Now, we need strategy.
Don't worry, I'm not letting him off. In fact, I'll be heading to Italy next week."
"Italy?" Bill sounded skeptical.
"Did Greyback run off to Italy? Or are you heading there for something else? Things are a lot messier over there… Wait—"
Bill fell silent for a few seconds, clearly piecing things together. He knew his friend—if Old Dao said this, he already had a plan.
"You're not… planning something, are you? He's a slippery bastard, and strong."
"You could say that." Douglas's answer was vague. Truthfully, he wasn't fully prepared—the situation in Italy was complicated, and their Ministry of Magic wasn't as centralized as Britain's.
But he didn't want Bill to worry. "The Italian Ministry of Magic invited me and Professor Lupin to help with their werewolf situation. I'm thinking of luring Greyback there. Besides, making a move in Britain would draw too much attention—and risk innocent people getting hurt.
Italy's complicated, but in some ways, that makes things easier to handle. I'm planning a little 'surprise' for him there.
If all goes well, we might be able to put an end to this problem once and for all."
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