Maurise had already surmised that Krum was an avid reader. After all, the Bulgarian Seeker spent the vast majority of his free time at Hogwarts hidden away in the library.
It hardly seemed like the typical behavior of a professional athlete. In fact, Maurise had rarely ever seen Krum engaging in actual Quidditch training. Was the guy simply a naturally gifted player who didn't need practice?
As he was pondering this, Krum suddenly walked over carrying several books, his expression uncharacteristically grave.
"What is it?" Maurise asked curiously. While Krum usually sported a stern and sullen look, it was normally just his default resting face. This time, however, the heavy emotion seemed genuine.
Krum placed the books on the table in front of Maurise one by one and asked solemnly, "Are you researching this?"
Maurise looked down and saw they were all texts related to "Death" and the "Deathly Hallows."
"You could say that," he replied.
Ever since encountering Sclep, he had been actively searching for any related information. He had acquired these books from various sources—secondhand shops in Diagon Alley, shady stalls in Knockturn Alley, and the restricted sections of the Hogwarts library. Unfortunately, he hadn't found a single mention of the name "Sclep." There was, however, an overwhelming abundance of legends, fairytales, guesses, and wild fantasies concerning Death itself.
Krum frowned deeply, pointing a thick finger at the cover of one of the books. "Do you understand what this symbol represents?"
Maurise looked down. The symbol Krum was pointing to was embossed in the center of the brown leather cover: a triangle enclosing a circle, bisected by a vertical line.
Of course he knew the symbol. It was the mark of the Deathly Hallows. He was quite knowledgeable about it by now.
Before Maurise could answer, Krum pressed further.
"This is Grindelwald's mark," he asked, his voice tight with tension. "Are you a follower of Grindelwald?"
'Grindelwald?' Maurise thought of the imprisoned old man in Nurmengard.
"Answer me," Krum urged, his voice dropping to an intense whisper, the muscles in his jaw clenching.
"I am not," Maurise answered simply. "In fact, I believe you are operating under a misunderstanding. This is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. Grindelwald merely adopted it, just as many others have throughout history. This symbol is far older than he is. I simply happen to be interested in the Deathly Hallows."
Krum pondered this for a moment and asked, "So this symbol does not exclusively represent Grindelwald?"
"Undoubtedly," Maurise spread his hands. "At least, that is what the historical texts claim. If you truly want a definitive answer, you should probably go ask Grindelwald himself."
Krum finally breathed a heavy sigh of relief and sat down in the armchair opposite Maurise. "I apologize. I was a bit agitated," his tone settling back into its usual calmness.
Maurise asked curiously, "You despise Grindelwald?"
Krum's expression grew heavy and dark. "It is worse than that. Grindelwald murdered many people. My grandfather was among them."
'I see,' Maurise nodded inwardly. So the two shared a blood feud.
Krum continued, "At my school, there are many students who still idolize him. They carve this symbol into walls and desks to frighten people... It is incredibly foolish, is it not? So, I taught them a lesson. I..."
Krum seemed exceptionally talkative today. Furthermore, his English had improved significantly since he had first arrived at Hogwarts.
Over the next while, Maurise learned a great deal about Grindelwald from Krum—mostly recounting his numerous atrocities. According to Krum's descriptions, Grindelwald was thoroughly, irredeemably evil, committing murder, arson, and terror without a second thought.
Speaking of which, Maurise had previously entertained the thought of visiting Grindelwald again for another chat; he was highly intrigued by the old man's prophetic abilities. He just hadn't found a suitable opportunity, so he had put the idea on hold. Perhaps it was time to put that visit back on the agenda. He could also take the chance to ask if the seer knew anything about the name "Sclep."
---
Soon, the new term officially began.
The second period of the morning was Care of Magical Creatures.
Maurise and Kyle trudged through the thick, knee-deep snow toward Hagrid's hut.
Kyle grumbled miserably beside him, "I really didn't want to come to this class. Those Blast-Ended Skrewts are an absolute nightmare. They're incredibly dangerous, and they smell atrocious."
"Oh, indeed," Maurise said.
In truth, Maurise found the creatures quite fascinating—not the Skrewts themselves, but rather the sheer absurdity of their creation. Hagrid had somehow managed to crossbreed a Manticore with sixty Fire Crabs to produce the entirely new species. Maurise couldn't even begin to fathom the mechanics of how he'd achieved that. It was too bizarre! He had earnestly requested a live demonstration from Hagrid, but the half-giant had vehemently refused. Which, naturally, only made Maurise more curious.
Before they knew it, they had reached the perimeter of Hagrid's hut. Strangely, the person standing in front of the door wasn't Hagrid, but an older witch with closely cropped gray hair. She was wearing a thick, furry scarf and observing the arriving students with sharp, scrutinizing eyes.
"Professor Hagrid has some urgent matters to attend to," the witch spoke up briskly. "I will be taking over your Care of Magical Creatures classes for the time being. I am Professor Grubbly-Plank. There are still five minutes before the bell; you may talk amongst yourselves."
"Looks like you won't be seeing your beloved Blast-Ended Skrewts today," Maurise noted to Kyle.
"I consider that a profound blessing," Kyle sighed in relief. "But speaking of which, where is Hagrid?"
Just as he asked, a Ravenclaw student nearby quickly shoved a copy of the Daily Prophet into his hands. "The reason is right here."
"Thanks."
Maurise held the paper so Kyle could read it with him. It was a sensationalized article heavily criticizing Hagrid. It condemned his teaching methods as barbaric and overly dangerous, actively causing student injuries, and most notably, it explicitly exposed him as a half-giant.
Kyle was visibly shocked. "Hagrid is a half-giant?!"
Maurise glanced at him and asked, "Is that considered a very bad thing?"
Kyle froze for a moment, then, seemingly remembering something, lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. "You might not be fully aware, but a vast majority of wizards harbor deep-seated blood prejudices. In some people's eyes, giant blood is considered even more lowly and savage than a house-elf's."
'I see,' Maurise nodded. He had actually deduced Hagrid's giant heritage a long time ago. After all, the man's sheer physical mass was astounding. He hoped Hagrid wouldn't let the article keep him away for too long.
Maurise then casually flipped through the rest of the newspaper.
When he reached the final pages, a familiar name immediately caught his eye.
[Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Bartemius Crouch, Reported Missing. The Ministry of Magic Launches Full-Scale Search...]
'Barty Crouch is missing?'
Maurise stroked his chin. It hadn't been long at all since Barty Crouch Jr.'s death, and now Crouch Sr. had vanished without a trace. These two events were far too coincidental not to be connected. Perhaps Voldemort had a hand in this?
Maurise reread the short article, but it offered no concrete information.
He folded the newspaper neatly and handed it back to the Ravenclaw student.
"Alright, class is starting," Professor Grubbly-Plank clapped her hands sharply. "Follow me, everyone. Today, we will be studying unicorns."
'Unicorns?'
Maurise recalled that they were among the magical creatures that despised his very existence the most...