Chapter 88 Make a choice, Dumbledore!
Dumbledore was a very intelligent person, and this intelligence was not limited to his mind and knowledge, but also included his experience and insight.
When Dumbledore probed, Vaughn knew that Dumbledore had guessed something based on his rapidly progressing partnership with Crouch.
In fact, given enough information and a rich and bold imagination, it's not too difficult to guess why Crouch was willing to help Vaughn.
For someone whose family has broken apart, who is so heartbroken that he is willing to give up even his political future, what could possibly make him cheer up again?
Of course, it's his family!
Vaughn didn't intend to hide anything. He was trying to win over Crouch to take advantage of Crouch's reputation and connections, so there was no need to be hesitant.
Even Crouch himself didn't care—he only wanted to fulfill his and his wife's wishes and win back their son; he could ignore everything else!
Dumbledore understood Vaughn's subtext.
He paused for a moment, then said carefully, "Have you ever considered that people who fall because of dark magic are not entirely due to its corrupting influence? In a sense, we can also think that power has no right or wrong. Just like a Muggle's gun, it won't just appear in your hand and force you to use it... Magic, like firearms, is just a tool, it has no thoughts!"
"Every fallen wizard who is obsessed with black magic, in the beginning, is sinful in their own heart. Black magic is just a tool for them to carry out their sins. Just because the tool has affected its master, we cannot attribute all the reasons to it... Do you think there is any need to turn them around and save them?"
Vaughn smiled: "You shouldn't say things like that to me. I'm just... a doctor, you could say? I make fair deals with patients' families. If they help me, I help them. As for whether the patient is guilty or not, that's a matter for law enforcement and the family. It has nothing to do with me, a doctor!"
Old Deng sighed and remained silent.
He knew that his plan to influence Vaughn with morality had failed again, which was also what made him feel most powerless towards Vaughn. He was only 12 years old, but Vaughn's worldview was shockingly mature.
He has his own logic and way of doing things, and it is usually very reasonable—even if it is fallacious, it is quite convincing.
And the more important problem is that Dumbledore discovered it too late!
It was only this afternoon, when Dumbledore learned that Crouch had sent more than 20 letters in support of Vaughn, that he realized Crouch's support for Vaughn far exceeded the normal range.
So, before coming to the Ministry of Magic, he visited the Crouch family cemetery in Godric's Hollow, where Mrs. Crouch and Barty Crouch Jr. are buried together.
However, his magic only detected one corpse in the two tombs...
If he were acting entirely on his conscience, Dumbledore knew he should immediately notify the Ministry of Magic and have Barty Crouch arrested.
Now, this is where his dilemma lies—if Crouch is captured, the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee could face unexpected obstacles.
No... it's not just very likely, it's certain!
Now everyone knows that Crouch is also a supporter of Vaughn, and he even wrote more than 20 letters this afternoon.
As his rival, Fudge clearly understood this even better!
If Crouch were to run into trouble at this point, not only would the Wizengamots who voted in favor be caught off guard and lose morale, but Fudge would also take the opportunity to use this as an excuse to obstruct or delay the decision to establish the Werewolf Affairs Committee!
Barty Crouch Jr. is undoubtedly a cruel and incorrigible Death Eater.
But if we sacrifice the future of over a thousand other wandering werewolves because of him...
Dumbledore is in a lot of pain right now. If he knew more about Muggles, he would know that his current troubles are somewhat similar to a classic Muggle thought experiment—the trolley problem.
He is now like the poor driver in the trolley problem, caught in a moral dilemma: should he sacrifice thousands of innocent people to punish one villain, or let the villain go for the sake of thousands of innocent people?
"call--"
Dumbledore sighed, his gaze towards Vaughn weary: "Vaughn, you did this on purpose so I would find out, didn't you?"
"I just realized it myself. On the last day, you had Crouch suddenly contact his old friend. It was a deliberate move to draw everyone's attention to your unusually cooperative relationship at this high-profile moment... especially me. You know, I will definitely find out why Crouch cooperated with you like this!"
"The reason for this is that you plan to make Crouch your spokesperson. He will have more and more contact with me and Amelia in the future, and sooner or later we will find out that something is wrong between you. Since that's the case, there's no point in hiding it. And you never waste time on meaningless things..."
As he spoke, he gave a wry smile: "Sometimes, I really want to pry open your head and see what's inside."
Vaughn neither admitted nor refuted this.
He simply smiled and replied, "I can guarantee my academic performance. My brain isn't filled with barbo tuber pus or slug mucus, so you can rest assured."
"Ha...a classic pharmacist analogy!"
"Thank you, I learned it from the professor, and I found it very interesting."
Vaughn's smile grew even wider.
He was naturally pleased; the fact that Dumbledore would speak to him so harmoniously was enough to demonstrate the choice Dumbledore had made.
Clearly, between the future of thousands and the sin of one man, Dumbledore unsurprisingly sided with the majority.
This is the choice that most people facing a moral dilemma are most likely to make.
Seeing the undisguised pleasure on Vaughn's face, Dumbledore was a little annoyed and deliberately asked, "Actually, there's a question I've wanted to ask you for a long time: Crouch's secret, Horcruxes... where did you get this information from?"
Vaughn showed little interest in his deliberate probing: "What do you think?"
Dumbledore thought for a moment, then said something startling: "I suspect you have the blood of a prophet!"
"Oh... if you say so, then so be it!" Vaughn replied perfunctorily, his expression not too pleasant.
Dumbledore ignored him and asked with a smile, "Then, dear prophet, can you tell me what my future holds?"
You will die!
Vaughn retorted with equally startling words, sneering, "He died a horrible death. He fell from the Hogwarts Observatory and was smashed into a pulp. After he died, his grave was dug up. You can't imagine how miserable he was!"
Dumbledore: "Oh—now I'm sure it's true that Aurora (the astronomy professor) said you lack spirituality in divination!"
Amelia, who had just walked in and overheard the conversation, was speechless.
Amelia looked at Vaughn's wicked smile and then at Dumbledore's grinning face, and suddenly realized that these two guys who were hurting each other were, in some ways, really alike!
For example, they're all a bit childish...
At night, Whitehall Street, located on the ground floor, is brightly lit and resplendent.
The Ministry of Magic underground was equally bustling, with people coming and going. The usually quiet Wizengamot Grand Council Hall on the second basement level was lively again today.
Unlike last time when the room was filled with purple-red robes, this time, in the huge tiered hall, only a dozen or so Wizengamo members were sparsely seated on the side of the main stage.
On the other sides, there were Ministry of Magic officials, reporters, and wizards who had nothing better to do than come and join the fun after seeing the announcement in the afternoon.
The whole scene became very noisy as a result.
As Vaughn and Dumbledore followed Amelia into the Great Hall, they were greeted by the flashes of cameras in the front row.
The smoke rising from the burning magnesium strip carried a faint scent of magic potions.
Then, a short, stout man with a receding hairline, surrounded by a crowd, strode over and gave him a big hug:
"Son, it's been so long, I've missed you so much... Ladies and gentlemen, this is my son, Vaughn Weasley. Look at him, what a handsome young man! He's as tall as me now!"
Of course, only Arthur would speak to Vaughn like that.
Vaughn remained silent. In fact, he had met with his father just two weeks ago, since he had been staying at the Ministry of Magic during that time.
Arthur led his son and proudly showed him off to his colleagues, especially Amos—Cedric's father.
"Amos, from this day forward, my son's name will be known throughout the entire magical world; he will become a great man…"
Arthur laboriously put his arm around Vaughn's shoulder and boasted to the sullen-faced Amos Diggory. Amos finally couldn't take it anymore and shook him off.
Arthur laughed heartily twice before whispering to Vaughn, "Keep your distance from the Diggory family in the future. You have no idea how petty Amos is. Son, he actually spoke up for Fudge just to belittle you in front of me... what a bastard!"
"Actually, Said is a pretty good person," Vaughn replied fairly.
"Oh…yes, yes, Ced is a good kid, he's just unlucky to have such an unreliable father…"
As the two were talking, Amelia, who was already prepared on the podium, pressed her wand against her throat:
"quiet!"
The loud voice, amplified by the spell, drowned out all the noise.
Amelia's serious gaze swept around the room: "The vote on the Wizengamo resolution is about to begin. Please take your seats and refrain from making any noise!"
Vaughn quickly separated from his father and returned to his seat in Wizengamo.
Arthur and other Ministry of Magic officials, as was their custom, sat opposite Wizengamo, flanked by wizards, civilians, and reporters.
As the spotlight and smoke reappeared, Amelia, who had taken control of the scene, announced:
"This vote by all members of the Werewolf community aims to decide whether or not the Werewolf Affairs Committee should be established!"
As she spoke, she turned to look behind her and asked, "Fellow members of Wizengamo, do you have any objections to the topic of this vote?"
No one spoke.
Amelia looked again at the seats of the Ministry of Magic officials, the wizarding public, and the press, asking questions in turn. This was a tradition that Wizengamo inherited from the ancient Muggle kingdom, with the four groups of people being questioned respectively, corresponding to the parliament, the governing body, the public, and the scholars.
Although it has been passed down to this day, it is only a formality.
Naturally, no one raised any objections.
Amelia finished the procedure and, without delay, immediately waved her wand.
Envelopes folded into bird shapes flew down from the top of the conference hall, and Amelia tapped her wand lightly on the open space in front of the podium.
The once empty granite ground suddenly slid open, revealing a pit from which a burst of raging flames spewed forth, but those around could not feel any heat, as if it were burning in another world.
"In the 16th century, when the first modern law was promulgated, the entire magical world cast a spell on this celestial flame. As it has for centuries, it will witness Wizengamo fulfilling the sacred duty entrusted to it by magical law. Here we count the votes; each vote is based on the voter's own will, without persecution or fraud..."
As everyone watched in silence, Amelia recited words that sounded like a vow.
Then, she picked up an envelope folded into the shape of a bird and threw it into the fire—
boom--
After the so-called immortal fire devoured the envelope, it rapidly expanded, emitting a huge sound. A ball of red fire shot out from it, flew into the air, and exploded into a dazzling display of colors!
Then the brilliance "froze" in the air.
Amelia, who had been watching intently with her head held high, announced loudly, "One vote in favor!"
Behind her, Vaughn watched the "fairy fire" with great interest and whispered to Dumbledore, "Is that ancient magic?"
Old Deng nodded: "Yes, it's a very ancient magic, completely different from the modern spell system. Actually, I think it's more like alchemy."
"What's the name of this spell?"
"Let's call it 'Immortal Flame'. This type of immortal flame usually has little destructive power, but it has some special functions. For example, the Ancient Blai Immortal Flame never goes out, while this 'Immortal Flame' is fueled by honesty and oaths!"
"interesting..."
As the two spoke quietly, Amelia continued counting her votes, with red fireballs shooting out from the celestial flames.
A dazzling array of colors shimmered continuously in the grand conference hall.
It wasn't until after more than ten letters were sent that, when a new envelope was put in, everyone saw that this time the fireball was green.
The ghastly green color, almost like poison, made Amelia pause. She examined it more closely before withdrawing her stern gaze.
"One vote against!"
Fortunately, after throwing all the votes into the fire one by one, the proportion of green "no" votes was not high, and the 50-plus envelopes were processed almost without much delay.
When Amelia read out the outcome of the last letter, the crowd involuntarily stirred.
Especially the journalists, who came to witness the ceremony in order to get firsthand news, and now, the news is beckoning them.
"quiet!"
Amelia rebuked them sternly, tapping the podium lightly with her wand; under the influence of magic, even such a slight sound was like thunder.
As the crowd gradually calmed down, she looked up at the fireworks that had exploded and remained frozen in mid-air.
"Under the witness of sacred magical laws and celestial fire, the following vote was cast by all members of Wizengamo regarding the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee:"
"36 votes in favor, 18 votes against —"
"Hereby I declare that, from this day forward, the Werewolf Affairs Committee will be established as a new institution in England!"
It's another morning.
When Lupin woke up in the cellar, the eastern sky was just beginning to lighten.
He tore off his tattered clothes and, by the light streaming in through the vent, saw the dark, low-ceilinged cellar, simply cleared out without any decoration, with long wolf fur scattered everywhere.
On the damp mud walls all around, there were a few weak scratch marks, which were left recently.
In the corner of the cellar, there were two pairs of wrought iron shackles, but they seemed to have been unused for some time and were already rusted.
Lu Ping leaned against the wall, his weak body barely able to stand up straight, his face pale.
This is a side effect of the full moon transformation. The transformation process is extremely painful and requires a lot of energy.
"Whoosh—whoosh—"
Lu Ping gasped for breath for a while before finally managing to squeeze out a little strength.
He forced himself to endure the weakness and emptiness in his body, staggered out of the cellar, went to the kitchen, found the food he had prepared in advance, and with cold water, painstakingly tore and chewed it with his sore teeth.
Transformation consumes not only physical strength but also magical power; he can't even perform the simplest magic trick now.
After struggling but quickly eating two sandwiches, Lupin finally felt the terrible emptiness inside him ease somewhat.
He breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a sense of relief at surviving a disaster.
He has lived like this for nearly thirty years since he was scratched by Graybuck when he was very young, but he still can't get used to it and doesn't want to.
Thinking about it, he gave a helpless, self-deprecating laugh: "At least it's much better now than before. Before, I was always terrified every time I transformed, afraid that my restraints would fail, afraid that I would break out and hurt someone. Now, at least I can get through every full moon night sober..."
Thinking of the excruciating pain he experienced during his transformation last night, Lupin's face, which had finally regained some color, turned deathly pale again.
In the past, when I transformed, I lost my mind and had almost no ability to feel pain.
But now, with the help of the wolfsbane potion to stay conscious, each transformation requires him to personally experience the excruciating pain of his entire skeleton and muscles being crushed and rebuilt.
This was a problem that Vaughn hadn't anticipated.
Lupin had raised this issue with Vaughn more than a month ago, and Vaughn replied that it would be resolved in the next version.
Thinking of Vaughn, Lupin calculated the time; the Wizengamo vote should be over by now!
He looked out the window, but it was probably too early, so he didn't see the newspaper owl.
Whether the Werewolf Affairs Committee can be established is a matter of concern for every werewolf, including him.
But like everyone else, he couldn't do anything but subscribe to the Daily Prophet, hoping to see progress in the newspaper.
He learned about the upcoming vote in Wissengamo from the newspaper last night; Vaughn hadn't contacted them for some time.
With a mix of trepidation, anticipation, and anxiety, Lu Ping pondered for a long time until the sun shone through the window and he felt much stronger before finally stepping outside.
He now lives in Newham, a slum in the London metropolitan area, which is the most notorious slum in the London area, home to a large number of bankrupts, dockworkers and factory workers.
In England after the economic transformation of the 1990s, workers were once again relegated to the bottom of society.
Earning the meager salary, living in the worst and most chaotic place.
Wearing a patched overcoat, Lu Ping looked quite down on his luck, yet he didn't seem out of place at all walking here.
Passing by countless Muggles as down on their luck as he was, Lupin arrived at the edge of Newham, in a remote and sparsely populated warehouse.
This place had long been rented by the werewolves as a shelter for women and children on the night of the full moon.
Adult men and young women have all found jobs in the past two months and are living outside like Lupin.
The warehouse was surrounded by a spell cast by Lupin and several wizards and werewolves to ensure that no Muggles would dare to trespass or approach.
When Lupin arrived, more than 200 pale-faced women and children, having just recovered with the help of other werewolves who had arrived earlier, were moving around outside the warehouse.
"Remus, how were you yesterday?"
Hearing someone call his name, Lupin looked up and saw it was Barnal the Younger.
He was helping the ladies prepare breakfast. Although he was weak after the ordeal of yesterday's full moon, he seemed to be in good spirits.
"Thankfully, Banal, everything's going smoothly here too, right?"
Barnal shrugged: "Some of the younger children couldn't bear the pain and made a fuss, which alerted the gatekeeper. Fortunately, the spell you cast worked, and his mind was confused."
Following the direction Barnald pointed, Lupin saw in the distance the doorman's office, where a middle-aged man was squatting by the door, looking dazed.
Lu Ping frowned slightly, feeling somewhat anxious.
The inconveniences of werewolves living in Muggle society became increasingly apparent over time, especially in order to take care of women and children who were temporarily unable to work, forcing werewolves to choose to live in groups within Muggle society.
In Lupin's view, this was a very dangerous thing—not that the werewolves were dangerous, but that their activities could expose the magical world.
The International Law on Secrecy has long been ingrained in the very bones of wizards!
Lupin had previously raised this issue with Vaughn, but Vaughn didn't seem to care. At least two months had passed, and Vaughn hadn't given the werewolves any new arrangements, only telling Lupin that everything would be discussed after the werewolf affairs committee was established.
Lupin also knew that Vaughn had already helped the werewolves enough; so far, the wolfsbane potion consumed by the hundreds of werewolves during the two full moons was sponsored by Vaughn and Dumbledore.
Everyone was able to return to Muggle community life thanks to the tens of thousands of pounds that Vaughn had provided.
Logically, he shouldn't be too demanding, but the truth is, Lupin doesn't know who else besides Vaughn can help the werewolves.
Compared to his anxiety, Barnard Jr. felt nothing; after all, he was not a wizard and had no reverence for the Secret Code.
In young Barnal's view, things were slowly getting better. Although he grew up in the wilderness, he didn't like that savage life at all.
He longs to return to human society, loves cities, and enjoys television. Apart from his wolf-like condition, which makes him crave raw meat, he is no different from an ordinary teenage Muggle.
Two weeks ago, Barnal found a job as a waiter at a dockside bar, where he received his first weekly wage of only 90 pounds.
He used the money to buy a fountain pen, and the rest he used to buy candy for the children.
He called out to Lu Ping, hoping the other would do him a favor—
After exchanging a few pleasantries, disregarding Lupin's absent-mindedness, young Barnal pulled Lupin to a quiet corner, awkwardly took out the pen, and stammered, "Remus, could you... could you help me give this to the gentleman?"
Lupin was stunned for a moment, "You..."
He had barely finished speaking when James Brown rushed over excitedly, waving a newspaper: "Remus, Barnal, the gentleman succeeded! He succeeded!"
Chapter 89 The Frenzied Werewolves
"Wiseengamo has made a decision to establish a Werewolf Affairs Committee!"
In the spacious yet cramped warehouse, on a makeshift platform made of several wooden crates, Barnald Jr. and James were reading from the newspaper.
Hundreds of people, including the elderly, women, children, and even the able-bodied men who came to help, crowded around them, making the warehouse extremely crowded.
James poked the photo in the newspaper with his wand, trying to make the werewolves see it move.
However, his mediocre spellcasting skills made it very difficult for him to accomplish such a feat.
In the end, Lupin couldn't stand it anymore and helped by chanting a spell to restore the magic to the developing solution on the newspaper.
The werewolves finally saw it: in the most prominent position on the front page, in a solemn and majestic hall, a serious-looking witch was announcing something in front of the flashing camera lights.
Then, she stepped back and welcomed a familiar figure to the podium.
The moment that person appeared, a barrage of camera flashes erupted like lightning.
Whispers arose from the surroundings:
"It's Mr. Weasley."
"You look very dignified!"
"Mr. Weasley seems to have grown taller..."
Standing in the crowd, listening to the friendly yet proud comments around him, Lu Ping's expression was complex.
Two months passed, and he almost watched with his own eyes as Vaughn's reputation among the werewolves went from mild goodwill to respect, and then to unparalleled trust and intimacy.
Even though Vaughn rarely visits the werewolves.
This was the outcome he had always feared, but the longer he lived with these wandering werewolves over the past two months, the less he could stop it.
They could only watch passively as these people grew increasingly fanatical and worshipful of Vaughn.
Lost in thought, on the makeshift platform made of wooden crates, young Barnal began reading from the newspaper:
"...Just yesterday, February 20, 1992, when the full moon was high in the sky (the full moon in the middle of each month is the lunar calendar, but not necessarily the solar calendar), at a time when we would normally worry about whether werewolves would cause trouble again, a rather memorable resolution was made in the Wizengamot Grand Council Room of the Ministry of Magic."
"From the moment Amelia Burns declared the Wizengamo vote valid, the Werewolf Affairs Committee, an organization proposed by Mr. Vaughn Weasley to help wandering werewolves and curb the spread of werewolfism, was established in England with the approval of Wizengamo!"
Cheers erupted from the audience, and everyone smiled and excitedly hugged those around them.
This includes Lupin.
After a brief moment of cheers and celebration, everyone stopped as if by unspoken agreement, listening to little Barnal continue reading:
"...The establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee is likely to have a profound impact on the entire magical world. It is the first legal organization in the global magical community primarily composed of non-wizardmen..."
"...According to further information disclosed by Wizengamor, the main purpose of the Werewolf Affairs Committee is to gather all wandering werewolves residing in England, re-register them, cooperate with the Ministries of Magic of various countries, jointly alleviate the international werewolf problem, and combat evil forces such as Greyback..."
"In his final speech, Mr. Vaughn Weasley outlined his plans for the committee's organizational structure. It is understood that the Werewolf Affairs Committee will have one president, four vice presidents, and 27 members."
"According to Mr. Vaughn Weasley's plan, 14 of the 27 committee seats will be mandated to be elected from among the werewolves—giving the werewolves their rights, which is also the original intention of the committee's establishment!"
"Some pure-blood families in the magical world, who wish to remain anonymous, have expressed concern about this trend..."
The following content describes the magical world's reaction to the matter. There's no need to read it aloud, nor does it stop the werewolves from basking in their joy and discussing the whole affair—the committee, the legitimate body, the werewolf committee seats…
These things are enough to uplift everyone's spirits.
Barnal threw down his newspaper and shouted from the platform, "Gentlemen, let's get moving! Tell our brothers and sisters who are working away from home this good news. Tell them we're going to celebrate here tonight. Also, there are some things we need to discuss!"
The crowd fell silent for a moment, then someone called out, "Barnal, is there anything we need to discuss?"
"Of course it's the committee's business," Barnard Jr. answered loudly. "You heard it, Mr. Weasley secured 14 seats for us, which is more than half of the 27 members. This is what Mr. Weasley sought for us, so we must protect it."
Lupin's expression changed in the crowd; he had already guessed what Barnal was going to say.
But looking at the people around him, he moved his lips a few times, but ultimately did not say anything to stop them!
Looking at the bewildered faces below the stage, young Barnal shouted, "Gentlemen, you've all heard the report's conclusion about how the wizards viewed us. We need to ensure that these 14 committee members work together to fight the wizards and protect our collective interests..."
No matter the group, there is no shortage of intelligent people. Before Barnal could finish speaking, someone in the crowd shouted, "Then let's elect you, James Brown, William White... You are the first to follow Mr. Weasley, and I believe in you!"
Soon, someone else chimed in: "After the committee elections are over, we'll elect the president and vice president, right? Why not just make Mr. Weasley the president? I only trust him; I won't approve of anyone else!"
"That's right. When we were down on our luck and in despair, only Mr. [Sir] was willing to lend us a hand. We only trust him."
Some people worried, "What if the gentleman doesn't want to? After all, he still has to go to school. I heard he's a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"With the help of our elected committee members, Mr. Weasley won't take up much of his time. Michael, you're an adult, you should understand that it's best for people to have some power, no matter where they are. We are Mr. Weasley's power, his strongest support!"
"Yes, yes, as everyone knows, Mr. Weasley offended the Minister of Magic for our sake. We can't let him continue to be an ordinary student all alone!"
"Yes, brothers and sisters, do you remember what the newspapers said? They thought we werewolves were enough to be an armed force, and if it were for Mr. Weasley, I wouldn't mind being his weapon!"
The crowd started chattering, and gradually grew noisy.
Lupin watched as the expressions of the people around him shifted from fanaticism to unfamiliarity in the blink of an eye, his feelings incredibly complex. This was something he had always wanted to stop, yet it had still happened...
The werewolves' discussion is, for now, just discussion.
The most important thing right now is to notify other people working away from home as soon as possible so that we can all share in the joy.
Everyone suddenly became very busy, except for Remus Lupin, who felt out of place with everything around him.
He certainly supports the Werewolf Affairs Committee; as a werewolf, it's impossible for him to oppose a legitimate organization that protects his rights.
What he couldn't get used to was the fanaticism of the people around him and his worries about the future of the committee.
At noon, news came that more and more werewolves were arriving during their off-get off work hours, so Little Barnald, William, and James organized a team to make purchases.
Lupin took the opportunity to leave, found a deserted alley, and pulled out a leather glove.
The moment the glove was taken out, it automatically flew into the air and inflated, as if an invisible hand had put it on, made a few gestures in the air, and pointed in a certain direction.
Lupin followed the glove's directions, navigating through the crisscrossing alleyways.
After turning who knows how many corners, we came to a secluded and dark dead end.
Crack!
The space twisted a few times with a faint cracking sound, and Dumbledore, wearing a pink nightgown and with Fawkes perched on his shoulder, appeared before Lupin.
The old man's deep blue eyes were as bright as Lu Ping remembered, and his smile was as crescent-shaped as his glasses.
"Remus, darling, how did the full moon go yesterday?"
Lu Ping bowed slightly: "Hello, Principal. With the wolfsbane medicine, things are much better than before."
"I heard Vaughn mention that the current wolfsbane medicine has some side effects that he hadn't considered before?"
Lupin nodded: "Yes, it keeps us conscious while forcing us to endure the pain of transformation, just like the first time we try Animagus transformation..."
His eyes were somewhat dazed when he said this.
Long-forgotten memories surfaced from the depths of my heart, as if I were seeing again those days at Hogwarts, when even the cold, chilly moon that terrified werewolves seemed to glow with the golden light of the evening sunset.
A werewolf, a black dog, a stag, and a mouse.
Such a peculiar combination wandered and ran wildly through the forbidden forest, the joyful memories drifting leisurely in the thin mist of the forest.
Not only did he think of it, but Dumbledore, who was also very impressed with the mischievous group of "The Raiders" (James, Lupin, and others), also thought of it.
He sighed. "I remember, Jaime's Animagus was a stag, wasn't it? I heard he learned to be an Animagus specifically so he could be with you during your full moon transformation... He was a great friend and leader, Remus."
Upon hearing that familiar name, Lu Ping felt a sudden pang of pain in his heart.
Yes, Jaime is Lupin's best friend and leader, and the most talented wizard Lupin has ever met. Jaime not only learned Animagus himself, but also helped two others learn it, a fact unknown to outsiders.
But he was already dead... betrayed by another good friend!
Lupin took a deep breath and changed the subject as if to evade the question: "Dumbledore, will you join the Werewolf Affairs Committee?"
Why do you ask that?
Dumbledore asked with a smile.
As he spoke, he waved his hand, and a powerful spell enveloped him and Lupin.
The two figures disappeared into thin air, and then Dumbledore led Lupin out of the dead end and onto the Muggle street.
It was already evening, the busiest time of day in Newham.
The old buildings built in the 19th century along the road gradually lit up, and the lights of thousands of homes and neon lights reflected each other. Workers from nearby factories and docks were bathed in the prosperity and atmosphere created by the lights, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility in the day.
Dumbledore observed the Muggles with great interest and seemed very patient.
Lupin pondered for a long time before replying, "I don't believe you can't see Vaughn Weasley's influence on the werewolves. If you're unaware, then I can tell you that just today, the werewolves are clamoring to use more than half of the committee seats to elect Vaughn Weasley as the committee's chairman..."
He recounted what had happened that morning.
Just then, a chubby boy munching on ice cream brushed past Dumbledore. The aroma of the dessert attracted him, and he couldn't help but turn around repeatedly, so he asked somewhat perfunctorily, "So?"
Anxious and worried, Lupin said angrily, "So? Isn't this enough to be alarming? Those werewolves are even clamoring that they're willing to be Vaughn Weasley's weapons... Are you just going to watch the committee become Weasley's personal tool?"
"Then what do you want me to do?"
Dumbledore finally looked away and stared intently at Lupin. "Squeeze in as a committee member? Or, at your age, become his deputy? Or perhaps try to win over the werewolves and compete with Vaughn for the position of chairman?"
"Remus, I can't do any of these things…" Dumbledore's azure eyes were filled with gentle wisdom. "You yourself said that the werewolves trust no one except Vaughn, unless I go back on my word and push for Wizengamor to abolish the Werewolf Affairs Committee again… Is that what you want me to do?"
Lupin was speechless.
This was also the point that had been troubling and troubling him. He hesitated for a moment, then said, "But if you get into the committee, at least you can check him..."
"No, I can't control anyone. My existence will only exacerbate the conflict, child!"
While the two were talking, they unknowingly walked out of the city and into the warehouse area where the werewolves gathered.
This place, which is usually quiet and somewhat desolate, is unexpectedly lively today. The warehouse gatekeeper is standing guard at the gate in a daze. He has been put under a confusion spell. During the spell's duration, he will be a dutiful gatekeeper and will not notice anything unusual.
For example, in the very center of the warehouse area, there is a huge bonfire being lit by the werewolves!
Hundreds of people crowded into the open space, all busy at work, with children occasionally screaming and running past the adults' legs.
A scene that was both bustling and peaceful.
Gazing at all that from afar, Lupin suddenly didn't know what to say, and just like Dumbledore, remained silent, observing from a distance.
Until he heard little Barnal's surprised, hoarse voice coming from the crowd:
"Dear brothers and sisters, look! Who has come to visit us!"
The crowd paused for a moment, then burst into excited cheers. People put down what they were doing and surrounded a boy who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, shouting and screaming at him with flushed faces.
Some people even followed the example of young Barnal, prostrating themselves on the ground and kissing his robe.
"Vaughn…Weasley!"
Gazing at the boy's fiery red hair from afar, Lupin murmured his name.
Dumbledore remained silent, watching the frenzied crowd, and then Vaughn suddenly cast the Illumination Charm with his wand.
The moment the light burst forth, the crowd seemed to be put to a standstill, quickly falling silent.
Only when people genuinely admire someone can they do this.
He could obey orders without any training, just like the person in his memory...
Dumbledore snapped out of his reverie and sighed.
Everything went as Vaughn had predicted.
As the inventor of the wolf poison and the founder who spearheaded the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee, even though he rarely visited the werewolves, he remained irreplaceable in their hearts.
This will be the case for at least a few years!
While human nature is indeed fickle, the werewolves who have experienced the hardships of life are currently the group least likely to be changed.
These people, who are penniless, are currently most eager for stability and to protect the rights they have just gained. So, who will help them?
The answer is self-evident!
Conversely, did Vaughn single-handedly promote the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee just to hand over the werewolves to others and do the work for them?
Of course not!
So when James nervously invited him to the evening's celebration via fireplace call, Vaughn accepted without hesitation.
Even though he didn't particularly like such noisy occasions.
Vaughn walked into the crowd, feeling the werewolves' fiery, overflowing emotions, their simple gratitude and trust towards him, yet he felt no ripples in his heart.
From the very beginning, his motives for helping the werewolf were impure.
Now, of course, I won't pretend to be moved or empathetic.
In his view, this was just a win-win deal. He helped the werewolves solve their problems with transforming under the full moon, and the werewolves became his supporters, making him more influential and spreading his fame throughout the magical world.
Therefore, at the subsequent campfire dinner, Vaughn only ate a few bites before leaving, giving the werewolves back the pure joy of the evening.
Only the earliest werewolves who followed him were summoned to the warehouse and asked for their opinions on serving as committee members.
Barnard Jr. was an ironman among ironmen. When asked by Vaughn, he did not hesitate at all, "Sir, I will do whatever you ask me to do!"
As he spoke, he smiled shyly and hesitantly took out a brand-new fountain pen from his pocket, presenting it to Vaughn with both hands: "This, this is what I bought with my first paycheck... Sir, I, I want to give it to you!"
Vaughn, who was deep in thought, was taken aback. He took the pen in a daze and was speechless for a moment.
Young Barnal looked somewhat nervous and apprehensive: "Sir, do you like it?"
Vaughn snapped out of his reverie, pulled himself together, and nodded. "...Thank you, Barnal, I really like it."
Seeing the joyful and innocent smile on little Barnal's face because of his approval, Vaughn was a little dazed. He even wanted to use Legilimency to see if little Barnal had unknowingly fallen into the trap of some white-bearded old man.
But seeing the other person's pure smile, Vaughn ultimately restrained his thoughts.
He glanced at the corner of the warehouse.
There was nothing there, but in his eyes, which were silently casting a manifestation spell, a magical power actually lingered there.
It was both enormous and extremely obscure; if Vaughn hadn't had absolute faith in his spell, he might have thought it was an illusion.
In the corner, Lupin, who had just arrived with Dumbledore, was startled by Vaughn's gaze.
"he..."
Dumbledore remained calm: "Yes, Remus, he has discovered us. He sensed us the moment he Apparated."
Lupin was speechless and somewhat surprised: "His magic is that powerful?"
The invisibility spell surrounding the two was cast by Dumbledore himself.
In his mind, no one should be able to see through Dumbledore's magic.
Sensing the surprise in his tone, Dumbledore shook his little rabbit nightcap, flicking his drooping rabbit ears behind his head: "Vaughn is indeed very strong. He changes every day, especially in terms of spells..."
Dumbledore wiped his eyes, his eyes silently cast a spell, and looked at Vaughn, who was surrounded by werewolves. In his eyes, the child radiated a light like the sun.
The magic that has officially entered the growth and development stage is like boiling magma, propelling Vaughn's vitality to flourish.
Dumbledore, who had also gone through this phase, knew that Vaughn would enter a period of rapid growth in strength in the following years.
He paused, then continued, "...Remus, I'm pleased that you're so perceptive of his ambition, but I hope you don't have any thoughts of underestimating or being hostile to him, nor try to use me to contain him."
"If I were to kill someone simply because they were ambitious, then I would never have brought you to Hogwarts, and Voldemort would never have existed."
"My child, as a professor, I have always considered how to guide my students, not how to nip a threat in the bud… That is not what a professor should do."
As he spoke, he looked at Vaughn, who was calmly putting his pen into his pocket, and the werewolf named Little Barnal, and smiled slightly: "You see, love is everywhere. What a person ultimately becomes depends on his environment. The environment in which he is growing up is good in my opinion, and there is no need to change anything."
"Remus, once you join the Werewolf Committee, just focus on fighting for the werewolves. Don't try to control things you can't control; that will only make things worse. Sometimes, keen observation and guiding the situation with the flow are the best choices."
After giving his final instructions, Dumbledore winked mischievously at Lupin: "Now, go to your meeting. After all, you were one of the first to follow Vaughn."
With that, he vanished with a crackling sound.
As he left, the invisibility spell collapsed, and Lupin was exposed to the elements.
Just as he was at a loss, Vaughn waved to him from the other side: "Remus, where did you just go? Come here, I want to hear your opinion."
"Uh... okay..."
Seeing that Vaughn showed no sign of surprise and even covered for him, Lupin finally realized that Vaughn and Dumbledore had long ago reached an understanding.
He walked into the crowd in a daze.
Vaughn withdrew his gaze, continuing to listen to what Barnald and William had to say, while his thoughts drifted to the whisper that Dumbledore had given him as he left.
"The plan is about to begin. Return to Hogwarts soon, Vaughn!"
Yes, now that the Werewolf Affairs Committee has gained legal authority, he really should go back to school...
Chapter 90 Hagrid and the Dragon
Dumbledore wanted Vaughn to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible, of course, because Harry had successfully mastered Occlumency.
Two days ago, on a night when, as usual, the skies over the Scottish Highlands were shrouded in clouds and drizzle.
As usual, Harry dawdled and hesitated until late at night before reluctantly arriving at the Potions Office—Professor Snape believed that the Room of Requirement's study/lounge was too comfortable and very unfavorable for practicing Occlumency.
Even though several days had passed, Harry still remembered the malice in Snape's drawn-out voice when he suggested to Dumbledore that they change their practice location:
"A lazy, complacent fool needs a harsher environment to remind him that what he's learning now might just save his life!"
Harry strongly suspected that Snape moved his practice location to the basement because it was a remote, sparsely populated, cold, and damp place that even Slytherin students avoided when there were no classes.
It's practically the perfect place to kill someone and silence them.
That day, Harry angrily told Ron and Hermione what had happened.
He wanted his two best friends to stay by his side recently, in case he was silently murdered by Snape one day.
Hermione dismissed his concern, saying, "Professor Snape can't kill you. There's no need. He just needs to break into your brain and implant all sorts of terrible self-destructive thoughts in you, and you'll jump off the observatory yourself!"
Harry's face turned ashen and his lips turned white.
Fortunately, his good friend Ron always manages to make him laugh again.
"Ha, Snape knows the basement is awful? I thought he liked those bat caves!"
Ron was laughing loudly in the busy corridor when Professor McGonagall caught him.
The fair-minded vice-principal was trembling with rage. "Weasley, how dare you slander and insult a professor like this? It seems the last detention didn't teach you a lesson. Now, go clean the washrooms, and no magic... hand over your wand!"
Ron hesitated, unwilling to pay.
Hermione, standing nearby, spoke up righteously: "Professor, Ronald doesn't know the Cleansing Charm yet, so it doesn't matter whether he hands over his wand or not!"
Ron stared at her incredulously, seemingly unable to understand why she was so vicious, actually revealing his academic failure in front of the usually strict Professor McGonagall.
Sure enough, Professor McGonagall's expression grew increasingly grim. "Mr. Weasley, I think I'm not mistaken, the Cleansing Charm is one of the simplest spells for first-year students. Professor Flitwick should have taught you this three months ago. Even with a troll, three months is too short..."
Her good manners allowed her to swallow the words that were about to come out.
But her impending rage made her lose control and grab Ron's ear, dragging him to the office despite the onlookers among their classmates.
Watching Ron's pathetic figure recede into the distance, Harry couldn't help but smirk—when you have to face someone who hates you every day, someone who might even want to kill you, and then look at your carefree companions beside you, anyone would inevitably think:
I really want him to suffer bad luck with me!
Harry suddenly felt really good; even the gloomy sky seemed a bit brighter. However, he still kept Hermione's words in mind.
So, that night he desperately resisted Snape's Legilimency, and it was a very strange scene: the two of them, one big and one small, stared at each other in the basement, making all sorts of ferocious expressions.
They would only stop when one of them was completely exhausted, shivering and panting heavily.
The scene was too much to bear.
Even after practice ended, Harry didn't relax at all. His fear and anxiety about Snape caused him to unleash a potential he never imagined.
On the morning of the 21st, as soon as Harry opened his eyes, he subconsciously observed his surroundings—a habit he had recently developed. His brain-closing technique, which he had not yet fully mastered, would always be released after he fell asleep due to the relaxation of his subconscious, thus triggering the punishment mechanism of his automatic response personality.
Harry had almost forgotten how many people or animals he had "transformed" into since the implantation of the auto-responder personality.
But to his surprise, he didn't appear in any strange places today.
The familiar dormitory came into view. To his right, Neville lay sprawled on his bed, the memory orb in his hand emitting a scarlet light.
I wonder what he forgot in his sleep.
Ron was sleeping on his left. Scabbers was in a cage and placed on the bedside table. The fat rat woke up with a yawn when it heard the noise and stared blankly at Harry.
Seeing Scabbers always reminded Harry of the feeling of it wriggling in his mouth the last time...
vomit!
Harry turned his face away, forcing himself to forget the horrific scene. He sat on the bed in a daze for a while, then pinched himself hard.
The pain in my arm was very clear; it wasn't a dream.
Harry's first thought was one of confusion: had the auto-response personality failed? He quickly dismissed this question, because he clearly sensed that his thoughts were enveloped by a thin, yet incredibly distinct barrier.
It doesn't have a physical form, but rather a feeling, a faint, cool sensation that covers the brain. If you're not paying attention, you might even mistake it for an illusion.
"This is... Occlusive surgery?"
Harry muttered to himself hesitantly.
He had never felt this coldness before, but Vaughn had told him that if one day he felt as if there was something extra in his head, it meant he had completely mastered Occlumency.
...Snape said the same thing!
Cold, cool, hot, hollow...
Everyone's brain enclosed technique is different; it all depends on the "raw materials" you use to "construct" it.
The raw materials can be false memories or emotions.
Harry wasn't quite sure, and just as he was lost in thought, Ron on the next bed suddenly sat up, his face flushed, and shouted, "Professor McGonagall, I really can't eat anymore, I..."
His voice stopped abruptly, and he and Harry stared at each other in bewilderment.
"Uh, Ron, are you dreaming?"
"...yes..."
Harry's eyes darted around, as if he'd just remembered something, and he asked 'curiously,' "I remember Professor McGonagall asked you to clean the toilets yesterday, how come you dreamed about eating..."
Then Ron, his face flushed with anger, rushed over and tore at his mouth.
After some playful banter, the two left their dormitory and arrived at the dining hall. When they found Hermione, Harry finally told his friend about the strange feeling and speculation in his head.
"Great!" Ron slapped his thigh. "Once you learn this, you'll never have to go looking for that old bat again..."
His voice trailed off as Hermione stared intently at him from the other side.
Ron muttered resentfully, "Hmph, you framed me in front of Professor McGonagall yesterday, and today you're acting like you want to eat me alive. All I did was say a few bad things about Snape, you traitor!"
Harry and Ron felt that Hermione had been acting strangely lately.
Especially around Valentine's Day.
Everyone originally thought that Snape was the Man in Black, and even Hermione's own observations and speculations led to a similar conclusion.
Even though she didn't want to believe it, she only remained reserved in the face of Harry and Ron's doubts.
But for some reason, one day she suddenly started to defend Snape.
When the two asked her, she wouldn't give a reason, and she became quite eccentric.
Of course, apart from that, she is still the know-it-all Miss they know.
For example, in terms of how they handle homework.
Ron was too intimidated by Hermione's gaze to speak, and Harry wasn't spared either. He didn't even have time to celebrate learning Occlumency before Hermione dragged him to the library after breakfast.
Hermione, who was already a head taller than Harry, carried a stack of books that were taller than her and placed them on the table. Then, under the fearful gazes of the two, she took out a notebook.
"Now that Harry has mastered Occlumency, you will all be reviewing with me from now on!"
Hermione said sternly.
That expression made Ron think he was seeing Professor McGonagall.
That was the person Ron feared most in the entire school. He only dared to fantasize in his dreams about Professor McGonagall inviting him to dinner and praising him as a genius or something.
Ron stared blankly at the stack of books. "Review? Are you crazy? It's only February..."
"It's almost the end of February, March is just around the corner, and there are only 13 weeks left until the end of the semester exams. June is exam month, do you really want to wait until then to start studying?"
Hermione stood with her hands on her hips in front of the two of them, and her figure appeared so tall and imposing against the backdrop of the stack of books next to her!
It sent chills down Harry and Ron's spines.
Even Harry couldn't help but complain: "Hermione, can you stop changing the concept of time every time? There are still more than three months left. Even if you convert it to weeks, it's impossible to make it shorter."
"Have you thought about Nicolas Flamel? He lived for over 600 years; three months would be nothing to him..."
Ron interrupted her: "We're not Lemaître, and we won't live to be over 600."
"That's why we should cherish time even more—"
Hermione always managed to confuse Harry and Ron with her clever little brain. By the time the two came to their senses again, they were already sitting at a table in the library, with Mrs. Pince, holding a feather duster and eyeing the young wizards menacingly, not far away.
No one dares to make noise or disrespect books in front of her, otherwise, the feather duster in her hand will teach you a lesson about manners!
Harry and Ron had no choice but to bite the bullet and get to work turning the pages.
Although they didn't understand.
It's one thing for those two academically challenged students to study, but why does Hermione have to study too?
That afternoon, when Ron saw Hermione flipping through her notebook, writing plans with different colored markers, he finally couldn't help but ask her, "You clearly know everything, you can recite the contents of the book with your eyes closed, is making these review plans really useful for you?"
Hermione sneered, "Ronald, if you were as smart as your brother, you would never say such arrogant things. Even Dumbledore wouldn't dare say he knows everything!"
Ron blushed, not out of shame, but out of rage.
He felt that Hermione was becoming more and more like Vaughn, becoming equally mean, mean, and sharp-tongued.
That noon, while he and Harry were out in the courtyard for some fresh air after going to the men's restroom, he complained, "That silly little girl, don't think I don't know why she's working so hard. It's because Vaughn is too talented, and she feels the pressure... Just like those little girls in Autry St. Catchbolt village when they were kids, frantically flipping through potions books just to have something to talk to Vaughn. So stupid!"
"I'm telling you, Harry, never force yourself to change yourself to attract someone. People who do that are fools."
Harry, who had run into Cho Chang at the restaurant at noon but failed to speak to her and was thinking about how to find out her hobbies so he could strike up a conversation, blushed upon hearing this.
Ron, oblivious to his surroundings, continued speaking fluently: "Muggles call this kind of person a'Simp' (something like a bootlicker). I don't know exactly what it means, but it's obviously not a compliment... Harry, what are you looking at me for?"
Understanding what the word meant, a slightly embarrassed and annoyed Harry said dryly, "You know so much about it, is it because there used to be a little girl you liked, but she preferred to play with Vaughn?"
Ron: "..."
The ship of friendship can capsize at any moment.
However, for children of this age, a momentary misunderstanding is far from escalating into a conflict or even hatred.
The next day, the two made up as if nothing had happened.
The reason, besides the fact that neither of them took the awkwardness to heart, was that the so-called "review" was no longer limited to Hermione's personal behavior.
The professors also seemed to feel that it was time to put the students under pressure!
There is no compulsory education at Hogwarts.
To advance from first grade to second grade, you need to pass an exam; those who fail will have to repeat the grade.
Therefore, starting on the 21st, professors from all subjects began assigning a large amount of homework.
Their content covered all the knowledge points of the entire school year, as well as a large number of papers. Faced with a mountain of homework, Harry and Ron had no choice but to put aside their differences and stick together for warmth.
"Merlin, when will this end!"
In the library, Ron, who had only managed to stay awake for half a day, felt like he was about to die and slumped onto the desk with a soft sigh.
Across from him, Harry was sweating profusely as he flipped through a book.
He is searching for a plant called Dictamnus dasycarpus in "A Thousand Wonderful Herbs and Mushrooms".
Although the title "A Thousand Magical Herbs and Mushrooms" sounds like a herbalism book, it is actually a Potions textbook. This afternoon, Snape sarcastically remarked to Harry that he had absolutely no idea what White Pepper was for.
They say his thick, crowded head is already packed with things and absolutely can't hold any more.
So Harry vowed that even if he died of exhaustion today, he would find that damned "White Fresh"!
Ever since Snape learned that Harry had learned Occlumency, his temper has worsened, and his attitude towards Harry has become more hostile than before.
Harry didn't want to give in to a guy like that.
Seeing Harry completely absorbed in his studies, and Hermione engrossed in writing something in her notebook, Ron looked out the window at the sky with a bit of boredom.
The sky remains overcast and rainy today, with thick, leaden clouds.
In the Scottish Highlands after spring arrives, the rain is so heavy it feels like the surrounding seas are about to be poured out. The last time you see the sun feels like it was a lifetime ago.
Since spring, Ron has never seen Hagrid take off his heavy raincoat... Wait a minute!
"Hagrid? What are you doing here?"
Ron stared in surprise at Hagrid, who was at least 11 feet tall and lurking behind a row of bookshelves by the window, and couldn't help but shout out.
As soon as he shouted, Ron remembered that he was in the library and quickly covered his mouth.
Sure enough, Mrs. Pins, clutching a feather duster, quickly ran over.
Those eyes, filled with fighting spirit and a sense of oppression, swept fiercely around.
The trembling young wizards at the surrounding desks all pointed at Ron in unison.
Subsequently, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid were all kicked out by Mrs. Pince...
"I really can't believe what you're thinking about all day, Ronald Weasley? I haven't even finished taking notes, and those books are hard to borrow. I had to go to great lengths to get Mrs. Pince to reserve them for me this time, and you…"
Hermione, whose study had been interrupted, went berserk and unleashed a torrent of abuse on Ron.
Harry, on the other hand, felt a sense of relief.
He had spent most of the day studying books out of spite, and he was at his limit. Now was the perfect time for him to rest.
Moreover, he was curious about why Hagrid had come to the library.
Although it's not good to label people.
But to be honest, Harry doesn't think Hagrid is the type of person who can sit still and read, unless it's about magical creatures.
Seeing Hermione's temper growing increasingly volatile, Harry quickly asked:
"Hagrid, what are you doing at the library... uh, are you hiding something on your back?"
Hagrid, with his hands behind his large raincoat, stammered, "I'm looking for some books on agriculture... yes, books on growing pumpkins, books that can make pumpkins big and sweet, or books that can make them taste like fried cod or fried potatoes..."
He started rambling incoherently and quickly urged them, "You should go back now and apologize to Mrs. Pince properly. I heard you have a lot of classes... By the way, you haven't been investigating the Philosopher's Stone lately, have you?"
Upon hearing this, Harry immediately perked up and tentatively said:
"We've found out. It was Snape who wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone, Hagrid, and you…"
"It can't be him." Hagrid shook his head repeatedly, interrupting Harry. He looked around and saw that there were people coming and going outside the library, so it wasn't a good place to talk. He then whispered, "Come to my house tonight, and I'll tell you why."
After saying that, he hurriedly hugged the books he had hidden behind his back into his arms, said goodbye to the trio, and quickly disappeared into the rain.
Watching Hagrid's departing figure, Ron curled his lip: "The book he borrowed definitely wasn't about agriculture, at least not about growing pumpkins. Otherwise, why would he be hiding? Could he possibly grow pumpkins that eat people?"
Harry didn't think so either.
Hagrid was clearly unwilling to talk about it, and there was nothing he could do. However, to his delight, Hagrid, who had always been tight-lipped and would get angry whenever they pressed him about the Philosopher's Stone, was actually willing to tell them some things this time.
This made Harry very excited.
Just as he was wondering why Hagrid was so sure it couldn't be Snape.
Hermione, who had quietly left sometime earlier, returned with a note.
She spread the note out in front of Harry and Ron and snorted, "Hagrid is looking for books about dragons. Look, 'The Dragon Taming Guide,' 'The Complete Book of Dragons,' and 'How to Hatch an Egg.'"
Harry immediately lost interest.
He shrugged. "That's not surprising. Hagrid has always wanted to have a dragon. He told me that the first time we met."
"But it's different, Harry. Everyone at Hogwarts knows that Hagrid likes dragons."
Ron suddenly said, "That's no secret at all. I bet if someone showed any interest in raising dragons, Hagrid could talk about it all day long, instead of being afraid of being discovered like this today."
Harry was taken aback: "You mean..."
"That's right, Harry. Liking dragons isn't illegal, and there's no need to be secretive, unless Hagrid has one… a live dragon, no, maybe a dragon egg!"
At this point, Ron excitedly flared his nostrils and began to breathe heavily.
Hermione immediately poured cold water on the idea: "Ronald, don't forget, keeping dragons privately is a crime punishable by Azkaban."
"..."
Ron, whose daydream was shattered before it even began, snorted and said nothing more.
Harry, a slacker who wasn't very familiar with the wizarding world and didn't like reading, was surprised to hear this: "He'll go to Azkaban? What about Hagrid...?"
Hermione glanced at him, then looked at the bustling corridor: "So, when you're discussing this, could you find a quiet place?"
Ultimately, they decided to study at the Room of Requirement, as there was no better place to study and chat in all of Hogwarts.
No boy can resist a live fire dragon.
On the way to the Room of Requirement, Harry kept asking Hermione and Ron about dragons.
Even in the magical world, fire dragons are powerful, majestic, and mysterious creatures.
Harry at least didn't see it at Hogwarts.
Ron answered his question: "Because all the dragons are protected. They are not kept in captivity, but rather each country's Ministry of Magic has designated a protected area and hired professionals to contain the dragons in the wild. This is mainly to prevent poachers from attacking the dragons for materials such as dragon blood and dragon nerves."
"Charlie works in the fire dragon reserve in Romania."
Under Charlie's influence, he was somewhat of a dragon enthusiast and could readily recall some basic information about the subject: "...Actually, there are still wild dragons in the wild. I heard that not too far from Hogwarts, in the Hebrides Islands of Scotland, there lives a group of black dragons."
"That's one of the only two types of fire dragons left in England; the other is called the common Welsh green dragon..."
Throughout the afternoon, Hermione remained busy with her study plan, while Ron educated Harry on his hearsay knowledge about dragons. His erudite manner made Harry once again wonder what he was doing all day.
As night fell, the three of them went to a restaurant and had a quick bite to eat.
Hermione went back to her dorm and brought Fruit Tea with her, planning to let Fruit Tea get some fresh air while she went to Hagrid's Hut.
Ron was very unhappy about this because it meant he could no longer take care of Scabbers.
"Can't you consider my feelings? Banban is so pitiful, I have to keep it in a cage all day now."
"Isn't Guoguo Tea pitiful? There are mice right in front of it, but it can never get to eat!"
Ron was dumbfounded. Could a human say such a thing?
At this moment, Fruit Tea, who had been quietly following behind Hermione, suddenly raised its nose, sniffed the air a few times, and then meowed as it ran towards a corridor.
Fruit tea!
"It's all your fault, Ronald. Fruit Tea is very smart; you must have hurt its feelings."
"Stop talking nonsense, it's a cat, it can't understand human language!"
"Alright, alright, let's hurry and find it. We need to get to Hagrid's place as soon as possible!"
The three of them, arguing and shouting, quickly caught up.
But soon they stopped—after turning the corner of the corridor, Guoguocha hadn't gotten lost.
This chubby big cat is showing its belly and hugging a boy's leg, acting all cute towards him.
Hearing footsteps, the boy turned around: "Hi, Hermione, Harry, oh, and my brother, Ronald Weasley!"